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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849097">Man Against Machine</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/serares/pseuds/serares'>serares</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 3, Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas, Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-04-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:16:22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>88,180</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29849097</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/serares/pseuds/serares</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Six years have elapsed since the second bloody battle of 2283 at Hoover Dam. Now in the early days of 2289, the Courier embarks upon the eastern lands of a peaceful Commonwealth, retreading the old world roads once more. Soon enough meeting the Sole Survivor, a hero troubled by his own past, hiding his own secrets. Finding a Boston primed for conflict among the disparate factions.</p><p>Extra Note: Expect a fast-paced, well-crafted story with more than 15 povs surrounding a complex plot revolving around power, justice, and revolution. The story deals with themes of loss, love, and duty. Tackling issues pertaining to populist uprisings, bigotry among the races of man, and emancipation for all humans under the sun in a post-post Nuclear Commonwealth.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cait/Male Courier, Male Sole Survivor/Piper Wright, Nate/Piper Wright, Rose of Sharon Cassidy/Male Courier</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><strong>Prologue:</strong> <strong>The Final Delivery</strong></p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Tom</span> </strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">6 Years Ago,</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">2282 A.D, July 15th</span>
</p><p>A rush of warm air blew across eastern Freeside, passing through the valley one hot midday summer down the streets of New Vegas. An insipid heat caught within the several warm laps that crashed wastefully against the old world walls of the refurbished Mormon Fort. The compound inward; a lazy show of wounded souls and tending doctors grazing about, scampering around the tent quickly, eager to avoid the raging sun. For a while all was still, then, peeling himself off the slow noon background as a quiet man stepped into the sunlight from one of the tents within, turning as he met the doctor one last time. Nodding to the woman in doctor-whites he started to move out of the compound, removing the inward ledge as he creaked the old door open just enough for him and stepped outside. The man then stalked the road left, seeing the small crier girl as he crossed the rubble through the old bus door.</p><p>Khakis in saffron stood around the old Elvis building, catching one short glance at the old pre-war establishment he then walked onward wordless. Leaving the Wrangler, a ruined storefront and the Freeside hovels behind him to soon enough be greeted by a host of securitrons. The modified versions humming dangerously as a few turned towards him, their shoulder clasps seeming loosened, recently opened to rain hellfire, probably.</p><p>He showed them his face, a second later being permitted entry into the elusive neighborhood in the midday sun. A few lazy NCR youths eyed the quiet man who walked soberly through a carnival of drunks, stepping across the red-lined panels, parting crowds, and twisting around the unmovable ones without complaining. Tired eyes with khaki-wrapped shoulders watched him lazily walk slowly up those empty stairwells and pause before a sliding door guarded by no one. Soon the curved doors unraveled to allow passage into its dark recesses within. The Lucky 38 answering the solitary man's silent call.</p><p>The cavity here was vast, down far in the depths of old inventions and technological marvels. Here was a frenzied byproduct of a mind that had nestled away for hundreds of years, alone, in a frantic attempt to seek life and conquer. Tom stepped slowly onto the platform that housed the case, a narrow metal bridge above contraptions hissing and buzzing down below. The entire room a low hum radiating out from the device surrounding where he stood alone. The mechanism was more extensive than he had first imagined it to be, coming back here often had given him, well, perspective.</p><p>The smooth glass casing over stainless old world steel showed the fraying man, sleeping. Alive, well, breathing at least. At his leisure, lest the old man forgot.</p><p>He turned then, moving back to the terminal to begin. The console having master-level privileges allowed a direct line to the old man himself. Here where Robert House had been kept in a slumber, a reduced state, primary functions kept working while some tertiary ones had been taken away.</p><p>Tom typed the words, quickly now as his fingers had taken to memory the letterheads of the old world.</p><p>"I've made the decision; we'll do it your way. No tricks this time."</p><p>Straight and direct, let the old man know his intentions early enough, no point hiding it. In the end, he had been trapped, almost like the old man had seen through it all from the start, the thought left him troubled.</p><p>"Don't worry, the treatment is permanent. We operate quid pro quo, do we not?" the words came at an instant, Tom working it out in his head.</p><p>He folded his arms, leaning over while closing his eyes, his mind going back to the repercussions his actions would bring; the lies he would have to bargain with, the words he would have to sell, promises he would have to carry on his back, people he would have to set in place. Boston, a lifetime away, seemingly a century away from the side of the world he knew. The green-tinted letters of a newly appeared sentence lit up as another few lines soon took over the screen after the previous question had been left unanswered.</p><p>"Prudence is your most arresting sin, Tom." the line on the terminal screen read, surprising him upon finding the old man had used his name, the mechanized voice had never uttered them but reading them now, he could place the knowing swagger his voice usually had. The lines came on after, "This is the last time we will speak for a while, I feel, But I trust we will speak again. You will make sure of it."</p><p>Tom reached for the words, feeling a mouse trapped in a maze.</p><p>"I will", he wrote in, the first promise amongst many more to come, no doubt.</p><p>Then came his instructions on the screen next, peculiar as only House could make them. For a second the room was loud again, his thoughts returning to the cavernous interior he was in. As he looked about he saw something, moving beyond the terminal to find the small darkened porthole at the edge of the device, had it always been there?</p><p><em>The chip, all this time</em>, he shook his head.</p><p>Composing himself, trying not to comprehend the magnitude of the events that reached far into the past as well as into the future, he reached into his pocket, kneeling as he got a better look at the round hole. It looked well lit enough in the energized glow of the fluorescent tubes, calling for the chip in its smoothly cut grooves created to entertain the enigmatic token in his possession. He had never brought on anyone down to this room, he found himself thinking out of nowhere. Not even after Yes Man had come over and taken charge, not even Veronica in her infinite pleading gestures. Perhaps, if someone would have seen him now, he could have been forced to make a better decision, for now, he seemed only caught, moving at House's instructions.</p><p>"Arcade will be fine, better you take him with you. I think he would like that, yes." the ending lines had said, "Also, let it be a demonstration of what I promise you, in the future. You will find him, rejuvenated."</p><p>More words were exchanged, dates and locations, the usual planning rituals for a business transaction done right. Tom took them all to heart, storing them deeply for he knew not when he might need these pieces of facts. As the lone man exited the deep bowels of the Lucky 38, feeling light somehow, a weight lifted off him, he stepped out into the sun and found it already down behind the Gamora in the orange afternoon.</p><p>He paused as he reached out the main strip road, in the reddish hue of the afternoon he saw scant tourists, a few soldiers most likely not sober; skulking about the casino opposite him. From up the steps, he saw Emily, walking along with a lean-looking soldier in dirty khakis wrapped all over. They walked arms entwined towards the strip within. A song came on the radio not long after, Mr. New Vegas having found a new cache thanks to a mysterious benefactor.</p><p>Marty Robbins' slow, velvet voice sang out in the afternoon glow as a cool wind brushed past his hair, drying off the sweat. He turned his head, looking below; the compass glinting in the orange sunlight, a stylized 38 engraved with shiny white pieces of ivory surrounding it. Tossing open the clasp to reveal clear glass over circular readings marked around a metallic needle spinning slowly, almost like clockwork.</p><p><em>Yes, a long road indeed. </em>Tom placed the compass back in as he started walking, idly wondering if this was the beginning of something that was far from being over anytime soon.</p><hr/><p>Thank you for reading if you made it this far. Stay tuned, a meaty first episode will be coming shortly!</p><p>Any questions, comments, corrections, or criticisms are gladly appreciated!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Episode 1: Man Pilot</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Episode 1: Man Pilot</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>"Listen, oh traveler of the valley below the canyon, a canyon where stalks the lion of the sand. Pray oh bulls and bears of the valley below the canyon, the lion comes for us all in the end, oh in the valley of the lion below the canyon, oh come meet your end."</em>
</p><p>-an indigenous folk song</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Tom</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">2289 A.D</span>
</p><p>A cool breeze swirled through hollow, broken hills of concrete and stone. Whistling, as plastic tethers flapped and naked rebar cried. Among them, a quiet bustle only still waking, completed the early morning landscape of this decrepit city. The sun lay hidden, for now, the gray overcast still too overpowering. And behind monstrous pock-marked walls that looked like a hundred dark eyes glaring down below, a quiet man had entered the fray.</p><p>Tom stepped onto the derelict road dotted with rubble and filth, exiting a dark alley with fading vigor. He had forgotten how bad the world could smell when the desperation of life coagulated at one singular place. Pungent odors that had no place to go, festering lay trapped.</p><p>The outskirts of the so-called great jewel were truly a sad sight to behold. As his heart settled, his body calming into the stillness, he brought out his palm, examining the smeared nature of the residue upon it. The hand belonged to a man who knew how to use them, thick calluses among his gripping fingers and adjoining palm. The deep red creases, now an admixture of dirt and blood mapping lines along with them. He needed to clean this up.</p><p>Squatting rather slowly to sell the act among a row of half a dozen or so vagabonds, he brought out his flask, rinsing the red out from his hands well enough to afford the semblance of normality. He sighed then, remembering the encounter. A grip that had been so deathly strong, one that Tom could still relive as phantom memories, reminding him of a constricted windpipe. An aging 60-year-old or so was about to choke him unconscious, with one hand. Well, it had been no human hand, he was certain. But it had looked so life-like, the feel of the old man's soft hand producing unimaginable strength, a warmth under that vice-like grip that bespoke a bodily reaction to danger and death.</p><p>He rested then, leaning against the wall, the bloody water draining out the foot-side grate as he eased into the scenery, becoming one with it. Looking about, there was scant anything new; among the usual squatters unevenly spaced in broken apartment complex hollows and boarded up cafes lined in wire, were beggars and wastrels in varying states of consciousness dotting the gray high-rise view, all high, drunk or dead, finding everything to quickly morph into an amalgamation of old dead things around him.</p><p>The ones on two feet, the ones who tried, dragged themselves to and from the jewel that still hid further within. Above him were rickety boards and installations he saw, things that swayed in the breeze, tracks along rooftops, the ground a crisscross of slit shadows, the eternal shade of the undercity forming around him. No vendors plied their trade there, no order prevailed, and almost unlit highways for the poor and provocative to move through should they be unable to pay or unwilling to talk.</p><p>He reached into his back pocket to pull out a golden compass; the memory of the old man with fear in his eyes had not failed to bring his mind back to the issue. An odd piece of craftsmanship, the compass was, with a stylized 38 encircled with inlaid pieces of ivory now mostly missing after all these years. A totally alien contraption to its surrounding, perhaps a token from an older time, the object he held was. The smooth, curved glass that crisscrossed two deep cracks hid a narrow needle that slowly spun, almost like clockwork.</p><p>He put the apparatus back into his pocket and slid the knife out of his wrist collar, wiping the blood off on his undercoat. Not wanting to look at it. It had been the old man's, a mean piece of sharpened steel wrapped in cloth gone brown.</p><p>
  <em>Fuck.</em>
</p><p>Had he just lost his only lead in weeks?</p><p>Sighing, he rose, turning and walking east non-descriptively, blending into the shallow crowds that somewhat huddled together in the biting January air. Maybe it was time for something more direct.</p><p>Tom had seen things, seen life come about from nothing and disappear just as quickly. A childhood spent in the shadows of a brahmin pen had not prepared him for what America had truly become. Leaving the stability of the Mojave had been a trek through an alien world to his naïve eyes. Come exiting the humid red canyons to find an ocean of arid flatlands moving east, to being forced into taking a detour to avoid the scourge of the Legion remnants and having to face a scope of snow for the first time in his life.</p><p>Finding themselves fall through the then impassable toxic hellholes east of Arizona, to finally end up at the Everglades where no man had ventured and returned to tell the tale. Having to recede northward they went, to face the deadly mires of the midlands. From there the road leveled but then rose again as the lush yet unwelcoming forests of the Appalachia reared their head. There he had finally stood over the edge of the world, on an old watchtower posted into the earth high above the range, here where the horizon was a bent circle, to see the eastern waters so clear that one frosty morning, the land finally ended before his eyes. And between every spectacle and abode of death the hundreds of miles of empty that stretched out in-between. Towns and tribes separated by uncountable miles with nothing but weary groups of caravans running the only lifeblood that pumped throughout the fractured land.</p><p>The old world had been kind to Boston. They had come from the west, out I-89 entering through Fort Halgen as they stayed well clear of the Geiger rich hot zone only a few hundred miles south. To Tom's surprise, the road up to where he now stood appeared surprisingly uneventful, until this morning at least. Modest farms and quiet settlements abound. He never stopped the rote habit of looking behind his back, staking out each gathering of souls, switching paths, and covering tracks. And yet, not a hint of danger had ever surfaced, the whole matter left him more stressed than he cared to admit.</p><p>He had seen mothers walk with their children to watering holes shared among half a dozen other settlements, seen patrols of men and women clad in the everyday brahmin hide; carrying weapons of no standardized issue, no uniform, no military bullshit. He wondered what Boone would have made of this cohort citizen militia. Hospitable as they were, Tom decided it better for him to stay afar.</p><p>His own intentions made him wary, he later realized. And then there were the crows; something about them irked him. It had been days being stranded once, stuck out in the middle of nowhere waiting on a broken brahmin bone to heal. Sitting on a rock for about a week and glancing every other moment at an old-world wooden post, slanting into the ground and twisted in grime-covered wires that dangled as a narrow murder of them perched upon it quietly. He could have sworn they were doing the same motions a day apart. Tom only attributed his mad musing to boredom.</p><p>The days of travel across the Commonwealth then had eased his nerves somewhat, allowing him to ponder on the locals, exchange glances and scant words with the not unfriendly ones, and catch staring women and girls in hamlets they took refuge in. They never met his gaze, always making it a point to shy away giggling at his turning head. That had always surprised him. Still, he knew what eyes he did not have to fear and those among them he should avoid meeting entirely, it was a practiced habit.</p><p>"Is this really necessary?" Arcade had asked once, somewhere along the road. Weary and tired enough to fall asleep at any moment, the man sat rather upright. Lit up against the crackling fire around which other adults sat, the children playing around them. Their voices shrill cries of mirth in a black expanse of the unlit surrounding. Tom had not let go of Mysha all evening.</p><p>A round of song had just ended, promising it to be the last, just as they had the last time. He had frowned at this lack of security. Making noises in the dead of night out in a rather exposed foothill where the settlement was located had seemed a bad idea. And yet they had reassured him that it was a daily custom.</p><p>"If you want to get stabbed in your sleep, be my guest, I'd rather die with my eyes open." Tom had said, half in jest.</p><p>"Well, you might enjoy having your private parts get nibbled on by a mole rat but not me. I hear it's a local delicacy", turning and walking back to civilization, gently wading through carefully to avoid knocking over bowls and pitchers. The tall man motioned to the elders who sat beside them and then to one side where he exchanged quiet words, soft pats, and logic-proof reassurances that put the pregnant woman's face to ease, beaming up and hopeful at a smiling Arcade. That man could always do that, put you at ease.</p><p>Faculties like a sponge, long gone were the dark leather overalls they acquired someplace near the great salt lakes, now here he was like any other brahmin hide wearing local, but with an old white coat drawn over it, selling the act of a practitioner. He spoke to anyone he could find and for the first time in months, his spirits seemed lifted. The man had spent the last five years picking up half a dozen different dialects along with a distinctive, primitive tribal mouth clicking, or so it was how he described it.</p><p>Not to mention those seven babies he had delivered and the unending number of broken bones and wounds of the so many nameless faces he had tended to. He wouldn't be around to tend to this one though, but the fake-real doctor had said any major complication was unlikely. And yet, he remembered seeing the small device Arcade had passed along to the woman just as he stepped back to leave, a radio emitter. So much for not being around, well, it could not be helped. Arcade was special, a better man than him, Tom had to remind himself.</p><p>"And leave me here alone with the mole rats, eh?" Tom had joked.</p><p>He just waved, not looking back, "Just keep one eye open, I guess."</p><p>That night Tom decided to sleep upon a tree.</p><p>They had been part of a brahmin baron's personal entourage, traveling with a dozen or so armed men accompanied by a couple of bulls carrying leather, meat, and the other basic offerings of an enterprising produce farm. The big man Hollard had been gracious enough to provide them for the rest of the way after the help they had given him.</p><p>Moving beyond all the quiet settlements and entering the view of stone had brought them to a crossing that was a half wooden-half old world creation, hiding a rusting ship partially submerged in the river below. At its zenith halfway through, they came upon a stone statue at the eastern railing of the now mended bridge. It was maybe a foot long, a quiet hunk of rock, single piece, carved to a smooth grayness. It must have been done by a fine hand, or perhaps hands not human. The figure was a man, rather nondescript but appeared all too familiar. And on the left wrist was a gray pipboy done to shockingly high detail, almost like cast work.</p><p>"It must be him." Arcade had brought it to his attention, nodding to the granite pedestal upon which it stood.</p><p>"Him?" Tom asked.</p><p>"The pipboy didn't give it up for you? Guess the stories were true; the guy's a hero. The Sole Survivor'', was half a chuckle, "Frozen in time from way back then, imagine all the stuff he knows. And unlike a ghoul, he probably still remembers most of it" shaking his head, "Another wacky vault for the books, huh?"</p><p>Tom quietly grunted and they had continued their journey.</p><p>The Commonwealth has a sheriff, he had mused.</p><p>A biting gust of wind brought him back to a narrow, empty portion among the adjoining skyscrapers. The rubble being thick here, extending well beyond the dark edges that fed into alleys as passages towards both directions. Behind him, the crowds had thinned, far enough to be indistinguishable as he realized he was the lone soul for some distance out. His thoughts were then cut abruptly as a mountain-like man stepped out before him. For weeks now that part of his brain is so dormant, the base unquenchable need for survival shot flares into his senses.</p><p>He was tall and half as wide, with a slightly wrinkled face, hair shaved short, eyes narrow and unflinching. Behind him, more people came up. One, two, he counted five more. They had no weapons in their hands and looked ordinary enough but that could always change soon enough. His mind going back to the old man he had killed.</p><p>"They say you've been asking for Billy Roger." It wasn't a question, the man who moved only his mouth, stood a whole head taller in dark vests overthrown with leather overalls, seemed to be the one spearheading this ordeal. "Yes'', Tom said, meeting light brown eyes that squinted in on him. If they were sizing him up, they would see but another wanderer in plain leathers with cut sewn boots, nothing too out of the ordinary.</p><p>"I have a few questions for him", he said, keeping his face amiable.</p><p><em>Had</em>, Tom thought.</p><p>The men were silent, and for a second he felt this morning could get interesting.</p><p>"Yeah? He's missing, never showed up this morning. How'd you know about Billy?" The words drooled and mumbled out of that mouth but his eyes never moved, they were interrogating him and seemed practiced.</p><p>"Business" he replied blankly, accepting what was inevitably coming.</p><p>The bald man muttered his words back to him, smiled and Tom saw stars before the pain burned into his face. Two men grabbed him at either side while another epicenter of pain started at his gut, followed quickly by another, tricking him into breathing too soon, forcing him to empty his lungs as the attacker disabled Tom's diaphragm. The guy was good. His thoughts stopped short as his head arched back. A handful of hair gripped him from behind. The pain subsided only long enough for him to open his eyes, one of which was swollen hazy by now.</p><p>"All right, let's try this again. Who the fuck are you, and where the fuck is Billy?'</p><p>The road was none but them, the few low lives that had sat by now scampering off to leave them to their business. No one would see his face, no one important and alive anyways.</p><p>"You want Billy?" he gritted through bloody gums, "let me take you to him."</p><p>It all happened in a flash. He didn't feel the pain at the back of his head; uprooting hair, cracking nose, such was the force with which his head jerked. A strategic adrenaline dump could accomplish anything. The hard smack onto the man's nose threw him off balance, making him flinch, giving Tom a precious few seconds. The one on his left hand loosened the grip for a moment, they had not expected retaliation, he noted at the back of his mind.</p><p>The few seconds were all he needed, twisting to his right, hold, snap, the slide of a blade. The flash of silver found the carotid artery on his left as Tom's feet found an opening to the man on his right. The quick flash of metal was out and gone before the first spurts of blood had pumped out through the dying man's heart.</p><p>The second man was reaching into his coat as his eyes leaked and breathing palpitated. A boy, masked with horror in his eyes. Grab, twist, turn, the boy was held unbalanced with the blade leaking slick red from his neck, lock arm, kick, run.</p><p>The sullen quiet of the cloud-cast morning still hindering the sun was juxtaposed now with the abrupt and sonorous echoes of bullet fire and the metallic clanks that whizzed past Tom. He ran, diving rubble and turning blocks, finding the souls around him recoil quickly and recede into darker denizens far from the running men. Three chased after him, the bald one not among them. About fifty feet away or so as they closed ground, cleaving the road and feeling the biting wind to his face, trying his best to lose them.</p><p>He rounded a corner, entering the same alley he had walked out of that morning. It was still empty and darker the further he went in, the roof roads above made sure of that. Soon he came up to a pool of blood now moving slowly south down the uneven surface. Not even glancing at the body that lay sat against the wall, he quickly edged out a metal crate in a heap strewn opposite, a few moments later finding the familiar bag he had stashed there earlier.</p><p>Footsteps sounded at the mouth of the darkened entrance; the three men held their pieces close, looking for anything to put a few bullets into. The man in the front brought up a flashlight revealing scurrying rats and damp mist through grates. Soon enough they found the body further in, a still man bleeding from somewhere in a pool of his own red, most likely dead.</p><p>"Billy?" one of them called, moving past the man with the flashlight as he stepped and-</p><p>The ringing lasted for a dozen seconds after his soul felt the sudden jerk. Tom hated being this close to plastic explosives but it could not be helped. A crescendo of flailing bricks, some of which shot out like artillery shells, destroyed much of the adjoining walls on either side, leaving behind even more rubble and gore shown in red. Shaken core calming, he blew in air, finding stillness.</p><p>Tom sighed, using his hand to feel the back of his head; it was slick with his own blood but no major impact, thankfully. He was not out of it yet, soon the swelling in his left eye would render him partially blind and the inflammation making any cover story that much harder to sell. He revealed his arm, pulling back the hidden sleeve, and reached into a pocket to fetch a needle into his mouth. He then tied a rag above his elbow and fumbled to find a bloodline below it, working to scrape grime off her arm to reveal pale, dirty skin. Holding his breath he stabbed and pressed gently. It took a few seconds for it to go all in, waiting for half a minute he then cut the rag with his knife, releasing the pressure and letting the stimpack flow.</p><p>Sighing, but this time in bliss; the concoction was a potent one, one of Arcade's canyon fruit modifications, working fast to numb pain and stow the reddening across his body. Still, the wounds themselves could only heal with time. His heart rate now sedated, Tom tried to find his feet. Turning for once towards the site of the blown bodies and rock to find nothing descriptive there, he ignored the scene and slowly started a stumble that turned to a walk. Going the way he came would be risky, no stragglers would stand at the mouth of the alley to gawk, no they'd do so from their tenements above. So he went through the other side where the alley ended, further away from the main road around which most lives revolved.</p><p>The road here was clearer, the usual rubble of things long dead, missing. The place had a blown-out feel to it, a kind of deliberation. Tom wondered, looking at the darkened walls and the charred floor, questioning if these were recent. He crouched down to feel the char, dry and powdery, incinerated.</p><p>"You know," a voice called from behind him. "When you said this morning you'd be out talking to the locals, you never mentioned blowing up those explosives as a persuasion tactic."</p><p>Arcade, he was dressed in those casual non-leathers and hide that matched the higher prosperity of the burgeoning town. He walked up to Tom and frowned at his face. His worried eyes gazed at him through rimless glasses.</p><p>"Nothing major from what I can tell. Here" He handed him his canteen, probably that razor rain malt he was taking a liking to. Tom nodded, taking a couple of hot gulps that numbed his tongue and soon the edges on his mind. Sighing as he took a seat at a highway divider, "Find anything?" he asked, taking another gulp.</p><p>"Nada, admin registries, mortuaries, backside garbage dumps. Everything's quiet. So I went behind the mayor's office and found a locked desk compartment. Let's just say we have leverage for now but nothing of the kind we need. `</p><p>Tom nodded, "Well, I just found a signal today, his signature. Guess this thing really does work." he had brought it out almost unknowingly, the feel of the smooth metal revealed a slowly twirling needle. "Nothing on it for now", he said, putting it back in.</p><p>Arcade spoke, "Then we go further. There's gotta be something in the jewel. Place where all these folks around are coming or going."</p><p>Tom got up and paced, "Except", he walked past Arcade, "This. Some kind of a living arrangement", he said pointing up a high rise beside the weakened sun. Arcade squinted and probably saw better than he did.</p><p>It was another gift the big man had promised, <em>To sweeten the pot, shall we say? So, do we have a deal?</em></p><p>"Huh. Tenements", Arcade muttered, turning and noticing the boarded-up faces of broken buildings. "How many do you think?"</p><p>"At least fifty on this road, I'd say. Those in Jeweltown jurisdiction anyway, probably more outside the power grid," Tom answered, handing back the canteen.</p><p>Arcade nodded, "This will be a headache, no paper trail to dig up here." he frowned, "They sure don't seem like they'd be friendly. Nobody mentioned this along the road." the man ended quietly, eyes far into the highrises before them.</p><p>"No. And judging by those board ups and the metalwork, it'd bet all this thing is pretty new." He walked up to intercrossing as Arcade followed behind him and then came to a darkened spot. Pointing at a particular blackened portion, "These are recent charring, the kind you get from high-temperature combustion, sticky magnesium or some kind. The residue hasn't washed off and the weather here is humid enough for rain", He crouched down, touching the porous residue, black and crumbly to the touch. He had seen this before. "It's human."</p><p>He got up and eyed one of the boarded-up households, expertly weaving wood along with metal to strengthen key stress lines. It was all too professional, was the only way he could describe it.</p><p>"Something big is starting here." Arcade spoke up, "We need to go, we can be at Diamond City by nightfall, find this guy."</p><p>Tom nodded, "Guess the sheriff doesn't have the whole damn place clean. He missed a spot." his words fell on a worried Arcade who nodded quietly.</p><p>Stowing his thoughts, they were beginning to turn when a quiet buzz in the air prickled the back of his neck. He motioned to Arcade and turned instantly, squinting to find a faint visage, a smudge on the otherwise smooth uneven sky. A rising screech, a gust of wind, and then dust abound.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Nate</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Nate Robert Adams was born in the early days of the year 2056, a child of modest means, born heir to North Dakotan farmers at the advent of tumultuous times. Being the precocious, fascinated child of only four when his father had first brought home a car, atomic-powered, point 75 miliTon C7 reactor engine with that light satin green finish; and he had been entranced. It was the marvel of a bygone era; one of those old city prowlers first elevated into the economy's general production lines for atomic-powered cars a lifetime ago when oil was made far too important to replace horses.</p><p>His fascination with mechanical constructs and machines, a pursuit that had led him to a career as an auto mechanic, had all come to a sudden halt when the department-wide draft campaign for the war against the Chinese had gone off. And off he went; tears, words, promises made and vows taken, a man with a reason to live, a reason to push on; Nora.</p><p>The next thirty-six months were a blur in his mind, a memory frozen in the burning chills of Alaska, of ice, blood, and death. Anchorage, the words sent chills down his spine, taking him for a moment back to those harrowing times. Somehow he had felt reborn there, that nothing worse could compare come what may, and yet he had lost it all again. In the ice he had faced Hell, what had followed had just been more of the same. People asked him how he coped, how he managed to live on. Nate couldn't answer them, he just didn't know.</p><p>He sipped the cool malt, the glass contents twirling held in his rested arm, the radiator humming quietly, cutting off the encroaching frost seeping through panes of glass that revealed a foggy view of dimmed lights and writhing winds outside. The room was quiet; a silence that was left behind after all was said and done. In the end, he was completely alone.</p><p>"Spotted those two in the undercity just now, some kind of seismic reading", pausing as she went on, "no records or DNA, they cover their tracks well. And", Curie peeked in, stopping at the door as she gazed at him, not sure how to maneuver through his passive living, as she had been calling it, her face a glow of optimism as she waited for a reply. At his light smile and nod of approval, she skipped over into his room, her long leathers over wool trailing after her as she went to the console to their right, working as fast as her human form would allow. Bobbing that knot of shoulder-length copper hair.</p><p>She spoke, "There was this massive explosion south by southwest. Here, look." Nate wondered why she had come this early, had she expected him to be not sleeping. Was it that obvious? She spoke after a moment, "The tall man never saw me." she said with amusement in her voice, "They have been nosing around though, looking for something", she turned, her face a creaseless expanse, proud yet contemplative.</p><p>"They moved this morning", she pressed a button and the screen expanded to a grainy image. The man Curie mentioned seemed to be the brains of the operation, "This other one though", she pointed to the gray image on the screen, two tall men, one much older walking behind, and the younger one that Curie pointed to, leading. "I might need some help with him."</p><p>Soon the screen was filled with multiple shots of those two, proffering establishments, taking long walks where they both stood a fixed, practiced distance apart in all the images, eyes scanning in every one of them. They had spent the whole day moving, exploring the region. Nate smiled when he realized they had walked every road through Jeweltown at least once.</p><p><em>So definitely not tourists</em>, he thought.</p><p>"Old Boston, huh? That's where they went?" Nate found himself asking.</p><p>Curie nodded quickly, "Yes! And lest we forget, it puts us outside Hancock's range."</p><p>Her eyes were pleading; did he really look so bad?</p><p>"Alright fine, we'll go in five." Nate surrendered, raising his arms, a smile to let her know he was not angry. He was not but he still had to keep up appearances. The looks people gave him when his eyes grew distant these days. No wonder he had to drink in his own room. Curie gave a small jump and then quietly walked out, "I'll be at the portal." she called out, her voice delighted, so hopeful. Moving past the door those dark eyes laid on him once more, for a second they had words for him but then she thought better of it, gesturing only a smile and steeping to leave.</p><p>Nate sighed in the contemplative quiet of the silence that had been returned. Massaged his forehead, thinking contemplation was the last thing he needed right now, the whiskey glass already grabbed in his hand, almost in reflex. He took the final gulp; the cool liquid warming everything as it went down, a shiver running through him after.</p><p>
  <em>Let's get to work.</em>
</p><hr/><p>The sudden crashing of air then the filling of his view with pure white, his eyes behind the visor adjusting through the thick glass, looking out at hoofed rooftops spanning as far as the eye could see. Curie called into his ear, "I'll go on ahead."</p><p>"Right", A closer teleportation pad to where they would turn the library, and go down the eastern highway road to the apartment zones, from the eastern pylon in Jeweltown where they would get first, teleporting further close to those far reaches of Boston. Nate reckoned it would take about ten minutes, heaving and running in the rhythmic servos that moved effortlessly. The blaring winds rushed past him as a low hum through his enclosed ears, murmurs in the static. He stepped on a roof edge, expunging fuel to glide a dozen feet to make a jump, making quick time as he moved to the more ruinous buildings to the south by the intersection road opposite the old theater. It had been old even when he was a boy living here, he remembered.</p><p>The second portal didn't slow him down this time, the jet fuel burning through the process, sending him in a flash to more rundown parts of old, uncharted Boston. His gait unstopped, Nate kept trending over unmarked rooftops as he came upon the scene of the explosion. A mist of gray hung in the darkened alley, a pile of bricks strewn about, some dripping blood, others resting bodies too small to make out from his height, finding a single point explosion, high tonnage, and compact combustion, so some form of plastics maybe. He walked, stepping to his right side and moving to where the main path led into stairs up top or miles inward into the Great Green. It was about a minute or two before he saw them then, the two figures six stories below</p><p>The thump of a hundred-ton impact sent a small bump into his being, a trail of seismic shake accompanied with bursting dust that trailed and summoned fog, misty in the frosting air. His visor identified two targets a dozen feet away, partially immobilized and vulnerable. He brought up the Gauss Rifle close and motioned above the trigger. And in a second, they were gone.</p><p>Nate frowned, dropping his large rifle and pulling a standard automatic out the holster strapped to the metal on his thigh, the gun appearing comical against the proportions of the engorged man. He suspected some kind of an EMP field, easy enough to cook up with the right old world tech but that only raised his concerns. A light step to his back left was his only warning. His headpiece made of thick steel rebounded sideways, ringing. Misbalanced, he instantly powered the fuel tanks on his back, the hissing of the combusting pressurized gas propelled him, working expertly to shift him around, and falling on one knee, looking up to find his gun be kicked away as a figure approached.</p><p><em>"I found the tall man! He saw me, he's coming towards you, seems to be carrying-</em>", Curie's voice cut out as along with it the light glow of his visor now became a dark shade through an inch worth of glass, he saw the man start to move, quickly his motions became a dash at Nate, a silvery gripped blade growing larger as the closer the figure came.</p><p>He was quick, and strong, Nate knew he was useless the second he met those blows. Fast clangs and clinks, sparks in the haze of dust and mist as metal struck metal, lumbering arms held close as he brought them up, making sure he didn't get poked in the eye. The knife then doubled, his other arm releasing another twin to the blade from his free wrist, sliding it deftly as a spark flew into the air, the already busy blade zoning the man in power armor. Soon he was getting harassed, even more, the reverberated banging settling into his arms, shaking him to the core. The sun would set before he could get an opening like this, Nate huffed.</p><p>Steel collided with steel as the man now slowed his attacks, gaining ground as the figure rather than darting and fidgeting, now seemed to sway and glide. Finding his chance, Nate tried to get a few punches in, only to have his joint conjoiners be targeted; the now outstretched arm easily sidestepped, leaving him out of balance, grabbed and at the knives' mercy.</p><p><em>Can't let him get close</em>, Nate thought.</p><p>Buffeting the assailant as he pushed, his arms and blade coming before those sheets of metal on his knuckles, flexing his limbs, moving back in mid-air as the force had been enough to crack ribs. Nate's other arm had come up fast to push the man away; the knives' had not seen that coming. The man drove back, entertaining the inertia as he stepped lightly on his two feet quite far back. He caught a glance at the joint, a streaked look of shaved-off paint violently running all over the arm piece until it rounded. The man hadn't missed.</p><p>Nate grimaced, So,<em> he knows about power armors, </em>great<em>.</em></p><p>The brawl consisted then of a few minutes of mad frantic attacks by the assailant. He was limber, moving like the wind from all directions, twisting and turning, the hit Nate had placed having not slowed him one bit. Nate faced the next oncoming attacks, this time looking for openings; he was the one in suit metal, why should he not take the lead? Locked in a tussle with those blades, long and silvery, with a narrowing edge that pointed at the tip, hacking at him, stilettos, he mused. Thankfully the rounded nature of his suit scraped off most of those attacks that would pierce a man otherwise.</p><p>It was then he dashed, Nate grabbed the blade, catching a bit of the narrow hilt in his clambering hands. The man was expressionless in the dark shade of the broken visors; he could see strands of hair fly across his face, the clean-shaven form giving away nothing. And in a second, the man was gone.</p><p>The other blade twisted around on its hilt before Nate understood what was happening, the man pivoted, stepping deftly on his knee conjoiner and turning himself. He was twisting in mid-air and had brought the other dagger to the joint of the arm that grabbed his other knife, falling on it as he quickly tucked the blade into the arm pivot. Nate's shell had cracked. The destruction of the retractor mechanism caused his arm to go limp, aimlessly falling into its relaxed position like a broken limb. Enough time for the man to dart to his other side and kick Nate, making him fall on his back.</p><p>This was getting humiliating.</p><p>The man paced slowly towards him, Nate finally getting a good look as the sun parted the gray and shone on golden hair lining a young face, though a bit bruised and roughened.</p><p>Nate had to make a move. Pressing commands in a fraction of a second, the gushing air extinguished the warmth of the modified T-51 power armor within as frigid air enveloped him; the armor performed a pre-programmed motion as it autonomously lunged forward, spiking jet fuel to rise out with a force that could crush, moving up against the pale blue until it came down after he was on his feet, the magnum cocked and gripped in both hands, getting frigidly cold to the touch.</p><p>Nothing at all before Nate's eyes. <em>Lost him I guess…</em></p><p>His opponent was CQC trained and knew the shadows. They had used the dust of his arrival impact to make him lose track and force the upper hand. If they wanted him dead, he would have little choice in the matter. As the dust truly settled slowly into an empty roadway, he watched, eyes darting to windows and darkened alleyways, his grip alert, twitching erratically as he walked forward, trying to retrace his assailant's steps.</p><p>The entire street was empty, and then there were footsteps behind him.</p><p>"Drop the gun, Mr. Adams.", a line of burn, faster than he could react, graced his neck and stopped his stroll. The voice was quiet, a rattle of death. He was a man who commanded terror, the cold burning heat on his neck betraying his rising heartbeat, his left ear, taking in the words.</p><p><em>What did he call me? </em>Eyes wide in shock, his turned face a picture of surprise.</p><p>"Let's talk, buddy." Nate started, composing himself then calmly raising his arms whilst his fingers motioned Curie to stand down. They clearly didn't want him dead, which was reassuring for a start. "What's your name, since you seem to know mine? Oh, and how is that by the way?"</p><p>"We have mutual acquaintances. Now look around", his voice dropped to a quick silence as the view did the talking around him. The metal was the next to come off, the thin cool burn exiting as Nate's cold hand reached for his neck. Not a scratch. "Been here a lot?" the man behind him asked.</p><p>It was then Nate saw, as the morning light slanted through more strongly now, parting dim clouds to reveal the yellow glint on concrete walls and wood, and metal, lots of it.</p><p>"What is-?"</p><p>"Behind you!" another voice spoke out.</p><p>Nate turned quickly, seeing the young man turn before him, the silvery blade sliding and locking into his palms. Towards the direction of the alley they all looked, hiding in the darkened recesses there was a figure finally revealing itself, a gruesome picture to his eyes.</p><p>Two unrecognizable men stood still as stone heads turned sideways, chest blown out, arms missing, and faces melted or seared off, transfixed as if caught in the act of motion, like an insect that moved in stony intervals. Their form a bloodied red that seemed dry and still raw stubs of appendages that seeped no blood, and then they screamed.</p><p>Nate did not see what hit him first, the three bullets from the magnum were all he could cajole as the man with a blown-out face, a missing midrib, and one arm lunged at him. Just then the man beside him pushed Nate aside, throwing him off his feet, away from the charging man. The guttural voices out of a face half remaining, with clouded milk-white eyeballs that stared at nothing but were looking right into his eyes, let out a low growl as it rose, the air had suddenly gone cold. They came for a second round.</p><p>The blond man turned around as one and a half arm lunged sideways with a force that seemed to twist the assailant's hips at an unnatural angle. The beast charging at Nate was coming, now only a few feet away as soon enough he could make out its ghastly smell. Rising quickly he aimed for the head, held his breath, and fired. As the bullet throbbed against the opposing motion, the sudden jerk was accompanied by plasma, petrifying and burning the sordid skin, leaving behind a haunting smell. The tall man with pale hair, now behind him, was a good shot. A plasma pistol was a tough mistress, harnessing it was not an easy ability. He nodded to that man as he slowly turned back to the remaining abomination, struggling under the boot of the man who ended its hindered cries with a swift plucking of the neck, cutting the being in two.</p><p>As they all walked up together, panting, Nate spoke up, "What, the hell was that?"</p><p>"Mr. Adams", the tall man walked up to him, meeting his eyes through half-rimmed glasses, almost gliding in his long strides. He extended his hand, "I'm Arcade Gannon, and this here's Tom. We've heard a lot about you Mr. Adams. Came a long way from back west you see, New Vegas. Pretty sure you'd know something about that", he deflated a bit, "And, just when we were beginning to think we might not be needed here", he trailed off, darting his eyes at the two mutilated bodies, "Suppose the job's not done."</p><p>Nate was relieving his hand as he took in Arcade's words, the man seemed genuine enough and Nate smiled, "Please, just Nate." he went on, "New Vegas, the strip, and the whole nine yards?" Nate asked, remembering what he heard. A prewar city not completely obliterated by the bombs. Guarded for centuries and only recently have an elusive figurehead emerged as the de-facto leader, overnight becoming a major player in the conflicts out in the west. The entire legion had pooled its forces along the Hoover Dam in the hopes of claiming New Vegas, a city so grand that Caesar himself had met his fatal end in its bloody business.</p><p>"A snow globe from a blown-out era, as a friend used to call it. But I guess you'd know something about that", the man named Arcade motioned behind him, "Find anything?" Nate turned along with him.</p><p>The blond man named Tom paid them no mind as he had gone back over to the crushed head of the dead body. Poking with much concentration, and then stabbing hard, raising the pointed blade, a small contraption skewered onto it for all of them to see.</p><p>A synth module, "Can't find it in there, seeing its all green shit now." he rose, dusting his clothes, still not paying them much mind.</p><p>Nate's eyes widened, the memories of those faces flashing again before him. They were human enough, dead humans forced to walk, freed to suffer, "Those were synths?"</p><p>Arcade turned and answered him, "We believe so, you see. We have been getting reports on the Institute for years now; they started a whole another mutant crisis out east, as you might know. Among other things", motioning to Tom who was examining the strange object, crouched down beside the dead body.</p><p>A silence grew around them as Tom sheathed those knives, effortless and working through a mechanism that seemed to retract them as surely as they had them released. There was only one kind of story about those kinds of knives, and these stories he figured had been relatively new ones.</p><p>"You're the Courier", Nate spoke up, swiftly bringing them all back to a silent morning scene. Arcade only looked Tom's way; the young man met his eyes, deep blue and morose at the confrontation, not shying away.</p><p>The Courier, a living legend from the west; they said he was only eighteen when he set the Fort to ruin, preemptively cutting off the apex of Caesar's conquest, single-handedly crippling the assault. As he moved into the old follower's camp in the dead of night some six years ago through the riverside north, facing gunfire, flame, and fighting all the way to the great tent, only to find the aging tyrant already dead. The old man found strapped to an auto doc, desperate to cling onto that which he had made forfeit so many.</p><p>Nate wondered what kind of man would not take the fame, the recognition, to instead tell a tale so absurd you had to believe it. Nate tried to remember what else he had picked up; an independent New Vegas having emerged out of the upcoming battle, sending ripples throughout the western seaboard, influencing events in the old world halls of California and the rugged rural plains of Arizona alike, tidbits of which; trickling through caravan gossip and war tales from distant lands reached most here in the Commonwealth. Nate still had the Railroad, though. They picked up radio chatter from many a relay. There they had picked up more reliable intel on the Courier, recent sightings, stoppages, and caravan paths across the country marking remnant legion bases and new copy cat dictator uprisings. His path was painted red and generously so.</p><p><em>And now you're here</em>, Nate mused.</p><p>"We've had reports about you too," Nate spoke; he could not feign his surprise, wiry and proportioned, nimble and almost graceful. A form that could be considered unassuming and easily dismissible, not too hard on the eyes too, Nate guessed. Didn't seem the tough guy, if not for the thrashing he had gotten just a few minutes ago he wouldn't have believed it. His dark blue eyes on a stalwart face, a piercing gaze on a golden, bound mop of hair streaked with black.</p><p><em>So young</em>, Nate thought.</p><p>"Your work is admirable. But, as you know the snake has many heads." Nate looked into those blues, Tom nodding to him, understanding his words. It was no secret in either the east or the west; the legion had fragmented into a hundred disparate bands and tribes out for blood. Ironically, they had gone back to become what they had once always been, only now bloodied for war and frenzied in their debaucheries and excessive trysts, filling the vacuum Caesars' preaching and teachings had once occupied. The minutemen had sighted more red hockey pads strapped with bolt actions and machete than he liked to admit. The thought shivered him, in the cold morning air, images of the legion coming Commonwealth's way. While Nate knew and had had it confirmed that they were not the real deal from Arizona and like, still, ideas did spread much quicker than people.</p><p>"That your spotter?" Tom asked, pointing to a shaded pillar of a three-story building, half-ruined thus rendering it untenable, Nate catching the ripped cloth on Tom's arm as they all turned to look, exposing the seamless lines of a deftly put together neuron-limbic reformation throughout the man's left arm, visible as sharp parallel lines in the morning light, smoothing, as it came down to his wrist at the pip-boy, seeming fused to the skin, the dimensions of the pipboy was only beginning to surprise him when Curie appeared beside them, holding up a small piece of hardwired tech.</p><p>The tall man smiled gently while Tom watched her, expressionless, "Uh, oh yeah. This is Curie. Curie, Arcade, and Tom", Nate finished awkwardly, not knowing if he should reveal their identities just yet. He was pretty sure she already knew.</p><p>"Bonjour", Curie greeted them brightly before Nate could make a decision, nodding to them both in turn, "Interesting contraption you have here.", she hummed quite eagerly towards the tall spectacled man, coming closer and facing up to him, somewhat forgetting about the Courier in her excitement as she came up between the two. "Short-range EMP field by a controlled plasma explosion in a magnetic field, of course" she continued speaking as she glided over to the reanimated bodies, "This, however", her hand on her chin as she circled over the dead things. "Hmm"</p><p>"They came back alive, Curie, haven't seen any synth ever do that." Nate said, "This whole area was hidden too. How come no one scouted this place out?"</p><p>"This place is ill guarded, that is true but as Mademoiselle told me, resources are required elsewhere. The mortality is not the question." she abruptly changed the subject, turning around to face them, "Bodily functions redirected, hmm. The synth component, do you have it?"</p><p>They sat down for a while then, the sun now up, the weak heat of it warming nothing against Nate's back. Still, it left the roadway somewhat well lit, an eerie silence settled against them as his eyes never stopped wandering over to those board-ups high above at various directions, preying upon anyone who might show. More time passed, in the shade of a high-rise, the four of them regressed to usual motions that one tended to fall back to when wading through the monotony of existence, giving tells Nate could read. The two travelers huddled close near a barrel fire they had started; a few moments had passed fussing over the young man's face, comical in the joviality the older man displayed; trying to theatrically dote over the rugged vagabond, even Currie he saw was giggling in.</p><p><em>So, a doctor then maybe</em>? He wondered, spotting the small bag of neatly packed instruments made for incisions and various small glass vials strapped against foam to cushion them. Nate looked at the man, once his face had been treated to and cleaned, sitting arms folded and darting his eyes just as he had, watching the buildings around them, the older man doing the same, back against each other. They sat, exchanging quiet words, whilst Arcade sent a few nods and smiles whenever he caught Curie looking Tom's way.</p><p>The usual small talk Arcade started and ended with Tom giving a glib answer as their eyes were always set against the walls around them. Nate saw all this while steadily working on the armor, an older T-51 for the usual runs, definitely not for melee encounters and using those fists on it, which were gloves in segmented metal shells on base leather at best. Wrenching in the servo retractor, a final twist, and voila. The gray cast now truly leaving, he placed the tool back with the rest, staring for a second at the bland gray sheen on the smooth curves of the power armor that reflected the three behind them. He turned then, walking towards them as Curie worked, humming softly in the rustling wind.</p><p>"So what is this about? What are you two doing here, anyway?" Nate started; it was time for some answers.</p><p>"We come alone, just the two of us. Exploring the country, it can get a bit dull in the Mojave you see." Arcade replied, a ready smile on his face. "If you ask me, the Commonwealth seems to be doing much better than most places," slowly shrugging when he looked around and Nate found himself staring.</p><p>"Well, some of it is", Nate replied, looked at Curie but her eyes were focused before her, "But you said you knew me, how's that?" he eyed Arcade, those shale green eyes never tensed, always assured.</p><p>"Yes, well. You see, we found you in our records, turns out you were mentioned quite a few times by some very important people" he paused then, unsure about continuing, "From back before the war you see."</p><p>"Huh. You have a file on me?" Nate half chuckled, instantly putting the mild man at ease, meeting his mirth full way.</p><p>"Well, we technically have a file on the Institute."</p><p>Nate nodded somberly, the smile dying somewhat on his face, resuming quickly he spoke, "Nice compass, not sure why you'd need it with that pip-boy, what model is that by the way?", he turned, locking eyes with Tom who had relieved out his pocket a rather grand looking token, a glance was all Nate got before it was gone, but he had not missed it. The glaring stare exchanged only for a moment then was a sweet victory on his end.</p><p>Tom turned to him, "it's custom remodeled, the base OS is a 3000." He said dryly, called out behind him, "Hey Curie, got something?"</p><p>She looked up, surprised the man had spoken to her, stumbling as she contained something, "Preliminary results show reinitiating of core biophysical systems. The limbic, olfactory and basal ganglia regions all show marked stimulation post mortem." Nate frowned, what had that been?</p><p>"So... reanimation? Like zombies?" Arcade asked.</p><p>The question hung in the air, Tom only giving a light shrug.</p><p>"Alright, Curie, we can continue this at the lab, for now, initiate autopilot. We'll take them in.", Nate said as he reached for the rifle leaning against the divider, strapping it to the hulking armor as he nodded to Curie, indicating her to contact Ada.</p><p>They were turning just as a low growl turned to a guttural shriek. Rounding heads they saw the source of the commotion, Curie closest to it. Two hands that dragged along a torso down the uneven path, with eyes milky white, staring at them as its head turned their way. The reanimated half hunk of a corpse made low noises as it tried to move towards them, Curie stepped forward.</p><p>"A living subject, this is most wondrous!" she cried out.</p><hr/><p>The four of them passed through one of the four-stop booths leading into Diamond City, small queues stood swaying in the morning breeze, not noticing them as Nate walked up to a guard standing aside. A few words later they were on their way into safer havens beyond the town they left behind them. Securities detail here a cast of baseball pad and helmets, semi-automatics in full display. A healthy bunch of them interspersed among the grays and browns and crimson among the rising crowds as the bustle of the oncoming city grew thicker.</p><p>"Did Mr. House send you?" it was a hanging question, one that brought all three pairs of eyes to his. Even Tom, who up until then had been watching the roads and the people on them, paused as he quickly met eyes with his friend. Nate couldn't admit many surprises at finding out Mr. House still had existed, the stories about a reclusive king in his castle the Lucky 38 were far and many, and people had not been amiss to ask him about the pre-war visionary. Nate tried to remember what he still could about the enigmatic billionaire who had gone into hiding before the bombs fell.</p><p>From magazines and newspapers that seemed like memories of a different man, he could remember bits and pieces; a towering intellect who carved out an empire among corporations and other lesser counties, ruthless and uncompromising in his vision. He was a daring man, rising through sheer force of will, someone whom the public had been up to step with on his every move, including his prodigious past. It was then he remembered. "The Institute, that's how you know about me.", he said softly before Arcade could answer, mostly to himself.</p><p>The tall man started, for a second letting out a sound that soon followed, "You caught us. You've been keeping up, I see." he added in this jovial light tone that could put anyone at ease. "Well you know, considering how new all this must be for you." his voice turned, somehow more resolute than he had known the man to be, "But no, Mr. House, is dead. We killed him."</p><p>Nate glanced at Tom, seeing those eyes, dark blue on a face that could have been carved out of stone, thankfully Nate could read stone.</p><p>Interesting, so they didn't share everything he supposed.</p><p>They had stopped by the bed and board a few blocks ahead, the road to Jeweltown had been one through the outer stairwells, rising over unused floors outside. Their route brought them through quieter portions of the interim establishments; Nate leading them through the western blocks, abandoned houses paused for renovation till summer came. Here the sights somewhat mirrored the undercity they had left behind. The road further in was marked with neon light signs for passengers in the dark. "Do you know about the Father?" Nate asked once they were clear of general earshot, walking ahead of them, trying to be nonchalant.</p><p>"Yes. We know about him, and you." Tom spoke up. Nate did not recognize who spoke for a second; the few hours they had been acquainted had made Nate forget about the man's voice. He spoke measured in a long drawl, a rhythm that jarred to his friend's. Nate locked eyes with those dark blues, not realizing he had turned.</p><p>"What about me?" Nate asked, somehow harder than he had wanted it to come out.</p><p>Hesitation? Or was it fear? What did he sense? "We know about your family, about your son," Tom answered, finally finding the resolve.</p><p>So they had heard, or read or how so ever they knew what they claimed to.</p><p>"House had extensive contacts with the Institute after the bombs fell." Tom went on, "You could say they saved him, saved one of their own."</p><p>Nate exhaled. It made sense; Robert House had been an MIT alumnus, prodigious and perhaps prodigal in some regard. Nate took another look at Tom, again. He couldn't believe for a second this man was not on a mission, one he would see through come hell or high water, something that had brought him this far, a road so long.</p><p><em>And yet he still speaks in that drawl</em>, Nate mused. Just how stubborn was this man?</p><p>"The Institute? Working out the goodness of their hearts? Now that's a story I'd like to hear."</p><p>"Well", Arcade chided in, "let's just say it wasn't for free."</p><p>Before leaving Junktown proper they had taken a detour to the Five Brahmins. Board and bread at 50 caps a night, single rows of doors stood on two stories with doors facing the road. Nate and Curie waited for a quarter of an hour, exchanging words and pleasantries with the locals who recognized them until soon enough, two men came out, redressed and carrying substantially more gear.</p><p>Nate's eyes darted to the big armaments slung behind Tom's back, back straight and eyes meeting the squad of armed men that languid on the couches playing cards, none of them had looked his way but he could tell they were a pack of wolves sat with their fangs at the ready. The two guns, gray mean hunks of composite semi-automatic and bolt action, both topped off with high optical magnification, expensive ordinances, all things considered. The longer rifle soon appeared behind, extending past his back towards the other direction, almost reaching the floor, the shorter one ending a foot before.</p><p>His coat came down to his boots, cured leather draped and lined in the crusted hide, wind-beaten and infinitely crisscrossed. The duster was slender, armored at joints that didn't hinder gunfire, and looked heavy, unshaken by any breeze. The two came up to them as Nate saw Arcade donning the pack that he had clasped with one hand as well, the group of trailing men who they had conversed with moments before resumed their leisurely play. They had nodded to Tom, who spoke a few words before moving on. Now they seemed completely disinterested in them.</p><p>"So, you guys ready?" Nate asked, leaning up from the wall.</p><p>Arcade nodded and spoke up, "The rest of our stuff will be shipped out tonight, and I hope we can expect accommodations?"</p><p>"Yeah, 'course" Nate's eyes once again went to those guns, wondering how heavy the whole getup might be.</p><p>"You sure you wanna carry all that?" Nate asked, not unkindly, finding a Tom who hadn't been paying them much mind, blinked once. "Who me? Yeah. I'd be naked without them."</p><p>"Right", Nate trailed off, thinking it better to not press the issue.</p><p>The road from then on brought quite a few onlookers, the number of people who recognized him increasing, as joyous cries rose and salutes by old men sitting aside the street, playing some game of stone left half-finished to come to shake his hand. From there on once they were past the last establishments till the city gates, their path was seldom hindered, walking quietly the four of them seemed unsure how to engage, in a way he felt they waited in his wake.</p><p>Nate decided to break the ice, "So, any ideas about what those things were back there? Reanimated synths?" he found himself mulling over his own words, "And the tenements, someone has been building refugee camps there, I guess."</p><p>"Are you sure?" Arcade asked, "I mean, the fine mayor of Jeweltown didn't mind what happened to the undercity, a shitheap, yep, that's how he phrased it, pretty sure he didn't find any refugee camps down there." The spectacled man went on heatedly.</p><p>Nate shrugged, "I suppose you would know. In any case, they managed to cloak video footage and hide the general frequency scanners. We have more than a dozen of those strapped all over this city." He shivered in the cold air as he was brought back for a moment to those vaunting days, finding the highest peaks in the sky, where the wind was thin, blowing, and always against you. He was often surprised at how many crazy things the Railroad had ended up making him do. "We'll have to send a recon team", he paused when Arcade met his eyes, "after", and he emphasized, "we get a look. Probably be able to wrench some of that boarding off with power armor and see what's inside." he paused, looking Tom's way, "I have spares too." trying to get a reaction.</p><p>Tom smoothly turned his head, "Got C4 charges for any large-scale penetration, for just ripping out those boards any focused ion laser should work. Better not bring the bigfoot."</p><p>"Bigfoot?" Nate chuckled.</p><p>"The power armors, those things back there were agile; they'll claw into your shiny armor's kinks. Rip you apart, metal and all." Nate grimaced but knew it to be true, the armor was only as strong as the person who wore it, without a functioning body or a working limb, and it would be a horrible kind of death indeed. Nate didn't need a refresher, he had seen those unnatural angles of the twist at the hip and arm, the unimaginable force that had hit air but would break bricks otherwise.</p><p>"I suppose, well for now let's get you set up. About time you had some of the good life, now I know this probably doesn't compare to Vegas but-"</p><p>His voice died as they turned the corner into the south side road, the blue grate hung heavy and motionless as figures abound surrounded the entire path, cutting it off. From the mouth of the walled city, people appeared; hurried in their gait and visage disheveled, finding their eyes fearful. Nate was only beginning to push through the onlookers who whispered among themselves when a voice cut the mass of men apart to reveal Hancock. His eyes were brought back from the long streak of smoke, a dark smear on the blue morning sky, Arcade walked before him, bringing his hands out to shade his eyes.</p><p>"Nate!" a voice called out. The crimson captain's coat fluttered in the quickly worsening weather, the chaos brought with it winds from all directions, the clouds from the far irradiated south, being coaxed to sway inland. "Where the fuck were ya'? And who're these folks?" Hancock said, in his raspy, irradiated voice, his face a smudge of soot and ash, the cloak also appeared to be darkened and wet at most edges. His captain's hat casting a darkened front over stained coat lapels.</p><p>"Later. Tell me what happened."</p><p>"The science museum, some motherlode just blew off about half an hour ago, shook the whole Stands but the fires came later. And'', Hancock came close, his eyes unsure unlike the moment ago, "we got people shooting at us back in there, synths Nate." he quieted his voice, "Now my men say ol' Billy was seen skulking around last night by that street and Nick's been looking for that man for weeks now. Well, guess where all these wackos decided to show up with semi-automatics this fine morning."</p><p>"No shit."</p><p>"Oh, a lot more of it in fact", he motioned to the gate behind, his mouth opening to talk just when Tom walked past both of them, Arcade at his step. Handing over a piece of paper hastily scribbled to Arcade, he brought out a stout revolver, long and polished in the morning sun, a miniature optic piece adorned on a five bullet casing arm. Seemed all too professional, Nate idled. Moving steadily as he wasted not a second to start the trek up the road, against the grate steel painted blue.</p><p>"Now hold on a minute." two guards stood against Tom's path as the voice halted his walk, "where do you think you're going, kid?" Hancock called out from where they stood, the guns resting easily on those turning shoulders, he paused then patiently pointed towards the rising smoke, "That right there is sticky magnesium that's burning through that baseball stadium of yours. Water won't stop it, you need something endothermic. If I can get at the fire's edges I can dowse it, but not with synths shooting while I'm at it. So, are you guys coming or not?"</p><p>Nate didn't have to wait long before someone spoke up, "Well, at least someone here has a plan." Hancock simply said, turning to Nate, "You coming?"</p><p>"Yeah", he frowned, had Hancock just subordinated? "I'll get a hold of ADA''</p><hr/><p>Another half an hour had passed, Nate didn't feel it fly by though, as every corner brought more chaos against their path. He had come across scores of people, fleeing in the chaos and mayhem of the frantic stamped against which the crew of six waded through. The initial dozen after leaving Arcade and Curie had been cut to a group of six as each man had been left behind to care for the wounded; smashed legs, the body burns, rubble victims were for starters as the further they went in to finally find bullet-ridden metal shacks and soon the disconnected pools of blood-forming around still fallen men and women.</p><p>The roads thinned, as did the crowds, the squalor of men had brought them to the depths through an open passage exiting into the latrine lines. The fires, they were told, lay further inward against the main water line, Tom had said that water wouldn't work here; Nate could only wonder what the man had planned. Well, he had his own ideas. Curie had gone with Arcade, the piece of paper a recipe for some endothermic bomb that was supposed to work here.</p><p>Tom was leading them, keeping good pace wearing those big guns on his back. His left arm brought forward the slender pip-boy, a glare in the sun that had become strong. His eyes kept checking back to the screen enough times to let Nate get a better look at it. The dimensions were completely alien, the screen a yellow-tinged hue on black.</p><p>
  <em>"You coming, ADA?" he whispered into his earpiece.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Almost there."</em>
</p><p>After a minute of wading through shit, they entered onto an empty road charred black, the fire already having collapsed rubble blocking the northern parts off. Tom was already walking up, jumping ledges and pulling himself up window railings, the speed was not what amazed Nate, and it was his limber motion that concealed vision and movements that darted rather than struggle.</p><p>"I'll meet you further in. Go through the main road and turn right at the fourth intersection. The road is clear there." he called as he reached the top, "Go!"</p><p>And he was gone. Nate turned to the ghoul, "You should go, my ride will be here any second'', nodding in affirmations, the remaining guards went with the mayor as Nate walked back and forth, urgency in his wake.</p><p><em>"I'm here, don't fret"</em>, a voice buzzed at his earpiece.</p><p>
  <em>"What would I do without you, Ada?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Self-combust into compost, probably?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Right."</em>
</p><p>The armor came on smoothly, a set of motions practiced and perfected. The pressurized chamber hull suddenly cut off the festering heat as for a moment winter truly had seemed to have gone out. People had sweat dripping down their faces, Nate remembered, The heat of the fire radiating much farther than seemed natural. He tried to clear his mind, focus. With his suit on he dove, the vertical propulsion bringing him high as the Stands that surrounded him. Here he could finally see the narrow line like roads against a roof view that ran all over northern Diamond City. The fire was further inward, already having blackened a good number of buildings to darkened husks. The edges from where the fire spread burned bright as people still peppered the narrow walkways, fleeing from the approaching source. They wouldn't make it.</p><p><em>Need to get them to safety</em>, he thought.</p><p>
  <em>"Ada, I need you to find Hancock, help him to get to the civilians. I'll handle the fire. Go."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Got it."</em>
</p><p>Nate dashed as the propulsion was now parallel to the earth, his frame buzzed and then promptly shot forward, cutting through the thin air, effortlessly gliding a few blocks a second. He would get there soon enough, all the while his eyes were always on the lookout for Tom below. Where had that damn man gone off to?</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Fahrenheit</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Her eyes were glued to the vicious clawing marks left behind the animal, she felt cold as the realization of what was happening hit her. Jodi's face was a mess of red before her eyes, dripping blood down her eager chin, stuffing itself with chunks of meat, arresting her thoughts, sending fear into her mind. For a solitary second, she felt a cold drop of sweat dry off her neck, the cool unassuming breeze hitting her from somewhere as terror came next. The animal lunged and pulled, dismembering bones from live flesh and ignoring cries of pain with equal ease. Here she was in Hell, she knew; somehow back again to that night, all those years ago in the flames. The fire, she had forgotten about the blaze around them.</p><p>
  <em>Get through this.</em>
</p><p>"Ma'am!" Holden spoke; his dark visors reflected the guzzling flames to which even the metal walls around them succumbed. Here they were surrounded by the dead and the dying, last whispers of men in her squad gasping for air or guzzling blood. Her own armor, a terrain worth of dents, with one particular mean one that had grooved the armor into her hip, a steady flow of blood she constricted with her palm, for now. Her other hand went to the gun, seeing Jodi, the frail young girl she'd saved out there, back during the Passing. Those green eyes were now gray or were they white? A cloudy cast over those almond-like ovals that looked into her. The animalistic stretched out posture, the leg arched unnaturally before the arm that clasped the warm earth like a four-legged beast, pausing as if noticing them two sittings there for the first time.</p><p>Her gun came before her, both hands clasping for now as a flurry of shots blared out in the creaking and whistling cacophony of the burning room. Her hands were clammy, slick with red that dripped, the heavy kickback throwing off the rest as sprays of blood at her. It was then she felt her lower half, each shot sending an echo that reverberated pain tenfold down to her trapped leg, the pain a separate entity to the senseless feel of it. The creature that was Jodi then made an unnatural voice, throwing its head up, the throat reaching skyward, releasing a guttural shriek that made Holden whimper, it then dashed forward, motions too fast and virulent for anything once dead.</p><p>"It's been a good few years with you, Fahrenheit. Guess this is where it ends, boss"</p><p>"Cut your bullshit, Holden, and give me the gun!" she shouted, her own voice mixing in with the hissing and lapping of the angry fire. Her hands patiently awaited the large ordinance to be dragged around and shoved to her while her pistol worked as best it could in halting the scampering fiend, now held in one hand. Once she grasped Ashmaker, she wasted not a second. After pulling the rotor cord to find it broken in two so self-initiating the auto igniter mechanism as long metal stands fell off at the release of a clasp. The puckered gun barrel began slowly twisting when she found the drums missing.</p><p>Then, looking around to find one of the crushed drums strewn about, split open to reveal lines of interlocked bullets, she turned. The pain at her hip watering her eyes by now, trying desperately to reach for one of the closer links, pausing before taking back the pistol and blaring a few more shots, the animal shrieking and trying to advance but Holden got up, his own shots helping her keep it at bay.</p><p>Finding her chance, she turned and fell into the dented metal, arm outstretched as one side of her face kissed warm dirt, the act tearing something inside her. Stifling a cry behind grit teeth she reached for the bullet line, pulling it close and working through bloodied hands, attaching the line into the central receiver.</p><p>"Keep it light, Holden", she said, as she set him up with the line in his palms, the feeding system initiated, she primed the low hum that grew, her grip tight. Fire came a moment later.</p><p>Her one hand constricting blood flow while the other helmed the minigun trigger, against its quaking, rhythmic, thumping, the ignition flashing in sharp contrasts to the darkened oven they were in. The animal now on four legs dove and hid behind whatever it could find. Her bullets tore through burning wood, the volley peppering the landscape on anything it fell. The animal twisted, having small-caliber rounds logged deep in arms and midribs that halted it not for a second if making it shriek even louder.</p><p>And then it jumped, rising above the arc range of the gun stand, she looked up, reaching for her useless pistol already primed but she heard the shriek before her hand could come up.</p><p>A shot.</p><p>The beast howled in the booming echoes of the bullet that streaked through the wall, making an impact with the beast. Exploding just as quickly in which for a split second the haunting visage of Jodi was imprinted in her memory. The explosive caliber tore through her skull then and gore was asunder.</p><p>Behind them, a weak, burning husk of boarding fell against the blast impact, ducking through which came a figure in a long coat. Holding a long rifle in both hands, scanning the room as it took in the view. A moment passed as her eyes adjusted to the darkness left behind by the flashes of the rolling minigun that had blinded her.</p><p>"You okay?" its voice called out, Fahrenheit saw another gun behind him before she saw his face, in the fire reddened light, she nodded, reclining as she fell on her back.</p><p>"Need to get this off", she said as best as she could manage, the pain resurfacing as the lodged metal exited torn flesh.</p><p>"Well, doesn't look too bad." The man stood up, "this one though", he motioned to Holden who promptly came up to the concrete slab arresting her leg. Before they could try once again, the shrill shrieks of the animals came back. A piece of the roof collapsed as the side pillar dislodged and fell, coming off balance; sending half the building to ash and ruinous cinder. The sky was blue now. Lying in the half room of fire, she could see light clouds partly hiding the sun. How long had she been here? Surrounded by fire, it seemed like a dream, the Stands above hazy in the cool, freeing air against the warmth of the still-burning structure that remained. Holden worked on her clasps once her leg was free, relieving her soon enough out of her metallic shell, bringing back the pain as raw flesh was exposed to air. Rising and finding her hand reaching into her pocket, a syringe relieving her of the pain. The exposed wound would still fester regardless. Grabbing the gun she got to her feet slowly, her leg wasn't still useless she realized, putting weight on it while fully getting up. The cries grew louder against the open surrounding, darkened hovels and still burning wood that released ash and embers into the air, flakes that fell like snow.</p><p>The familiar shrill of power armor came first though, Nate dashed in, the frame hulking and lumbering as it moved once having landed with a pronounced thud that threw off a cloud of ash and dust around him.</p><p>The figures that stalked them had then appeared suddenly, charging at them at once. Fahrenheit saw the man with the long rifle dive, a revolver in his hand now, the rifle free falling. He took three quick shots, the fiend on the ground staked past all but one, recoiling in pain as he moved in, a blade appearing out of somewhere that logged into the writhing neck of the beast. Positioning his revolver and lodging two more loud bullets right up against the temple of the milk-eyed woman. The head remained intact but the body went still. Twisting his wrist left no purchase on the smooth silver blade as the dead animal dislodged itself and fell to the ground with a lifeless thud.</p><p>"Go for the head.", a quick cock of the cylinder dropped empty shells heavy on the ashen sand, then brought a ring that placed a circular stack of fresh bullets back in. "The synth component in their heads, that's what's keeping them alive."</p><p>She looked to her right, the other fiend already in a tussle with Nate's armor, the sparkling thunder off those too bright bulbs sent quick zaps following any approach by the languishing animal, now showing burns all over, the smell of blackened flesh strong in the air. The suit quickly restrained the being, grabbing it tightly, ripping out the burnt head as a jolt through it made it hiss; liquids running out its eyes and mouth. Those milk-white eyes collapsing into flames as a clear tear broke off its head from the torso. The third was now paused, suddenly unsure. The motions not like before, a stillness that was gone. The beast dashed anyways towards them, a final desperate attempt. The man who had spoken to her and Holden picked up his rifle, the long barrel of which came up for a one-shot final that exploded the head, the body violently flailing in the opposite direction as spurts of bone and brain flew everywhere. As the man was removing the casing with a twist of the arm when Nate came to them, his mechanical gait sounded like grinding gears.</p><p>"That all of 'em here?" he asked, his voice mechanized.</p><p>"We saw three more; should be closer to the gate," she replied, eyeing the spattering of red on sky blue paint.</p><p>"Right", Nate said, his head turning as he jetted up, seconds later high above them below, then gliding downward east as he slid across the air. She brought her eyes down, the man below was speaking, she saw blue eyes smooth and sure, his voice trying to calm her, like she was some damn civilian, "Get her to the gate, Hancock's there." he ended, eying Holden.</p><p>"Where will you go?" she asked, walking up to him. "We have orders to evacuate and rescue. Could use a hand, you know." folding her arms. She stared at him, stocky in form, thick arms that hugged the leather coat fully, strapped with a belt. A golden mane on an intense face, staring at her, watching.</p><p>"Any survivors?" he asked, hoisting that long sniper rifle on his shoulder, another rifle strapped behind him on the other side, where was this man going? War? She stepped between him and Jodi, the body now lay lifeless, the same old girl again. The beast-like fervor gone, lifeless corpse-strewn mutilated.</p><p>"No, we routed them all through the eastern highway. Those things, we lured them to us." instinctively reached into a familiar pocket, finding it empty.</p><p>
  <em>Just great.</em>
</p><p>An eye towards Holden quickly procured for her a cigarette she took from him, puffing life into it as her subordinate lit a fire. She took a drag, and then minutes went by into discussing how many she had tagged in the debris and how many she had found. Ford and Marvin still breathed, stimpacks having reached them in time. That left the rest; six lifeless had to tag those too.</p><p>"I'm Tom, by the way." he had also said sometime in the whole ordeal.</p><p>"Fahrenheit, Captain of the Guard here," she replied, remembering a bar tale she had heard once.</p><p>No shit.</p><p>"Oh, and hey, thanks, for saving us." she motioned towards Holden, who started gesturing his way as well, stopping only when he brought up his hand.</p><p>Moving past them as he pointed, "We should get them out the fire too." he said motioning to her dead personnel. She didn't look at those dead eyes then, working silently, closing each pair as they came, slinging them one at a time between her and Holden, the stocky man carrying them in his arms.</p><p>The reanimated dead were dragged afterward, set up as a row as she set Jodi up to one side, working quietly and not betraying herself. They had just pulled the last body over when the man looked past her as they were rising from the exertion as something caught his eye. Turning she found Curie there. Right, she would be here of course. But behind her came a tall man in a coat as well, a faded white in the physician's design, his rimless glasses became clear of the glare as they came close, the tall man eyeing Tom.</p><p>"You have it?" Tom asked.</p><p>The man with the blond white hair nodded, and then looked around, gesturing to Holden and her.</p><p>"Here", he slung a pack at him, "five-meter radius, T-minus 10s, single file impact, shouldn't be too loud."</p><p>"Great, thanks." the man moved then, slinging the bag as he scanned the region. When he found her staring at him, he spoke, "Endothermic explosives, this fire runs on continued combustion, it can probably burn through anything but dirt. So you have to neutralize it, end the cycle." Nodding to his friend who was focused on the recently reanimated dead, "You coming?"</p><p>He turned to them, "As we were.", then moving along by Tom's side. They were gone from view in a minute or two, the radio dispatch for corpse retrieval already entailed, the three of them waited, aimless in the pause of the hectic day. Pacing around while Holden sat down, smoking a cigarette by a standing foundation.</p><p>"Hey Curie?" she found herself asking.</p><p>"Hmm?" The wide-eyed girl looked at her questioningly.</p><p>"Is that who I think it is?"</p><p>Curie nodded to her she came close and leaned in, a growing excitement in her eyes, "Mademoiselle was proven correct. Even Pam had said it was unlikely, but it's true! The Courier has arrived in Boston." she didn't share the younger woman's same level of enthusiasm.</p><p>Dez, she could be a conniving bitch, that one. She wondered if Tom knew what kind of mess he had just stepped into. The two men who had crossed the road had traveled far, the low growls of explosions came softly and seldom in the distance as she finally decided to look at Jodi, or what remained of her.</p><p><em>Stop, don't. Not now. Do your part first, </em>she resolved herself.</p><p>Moving, as a breeze blew behind her step that brought frigid winds smelling of dirt and salt, a rainy smell coming fast in the cold winter air as well.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Nate</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Tom walked out the door, slamming it behind him. Nate sighed, staring up as he blinked a few times exhaling air audibly. His eyes felt warm behind those closed lids, a slow branch of pain surging steadily through the back of his lower skull, taking over. How long had he been awake? Massaging his temples with one hand he reached blindly down the desk drawer. Hancock had something for sleep here, he remembered</p><p>A knock came on the door, three quick taps, just like the old times.</p><p>He looked up quickly, forgetting the pain and need at once. He was only beginning to run his hand through his hair to make himself presentable when the door abruptly opened wide, flashing the bright midday inward. Long brown leather fluttered in winds that promised nightly rains, a smoky breeze wafted in as well. Silhouetted, he saw dark auburn hair that rested on collared shoulders, and above that was the press cap she always liked to wear. The flapping coat was restricted against the wind by the pocketed hand that pulled the overalls close, her other hand on the doorknob, looking outward. She was turned against him, her head searching something towards the road, slowly stepping in while eyeing the surroundings one last time before closing the door gently. Turning around, her eyes growing wide.</p><p>"Nate.", Hard, knowing, massacred eyes glanced at him, somewhat surprised to see him there, but nothing more from what he could tell. A sizable moment passed while none spoke, tucking her hair behind those silver earrings, looking sideways. Looking away when the gaze had become too overwhelming for both of them, realizing they were alone together in the room. She paced then like she always did when she was agitated.</p><p>"What are you doing here?" she asked nonchalantly, walking towards the liquor cabinet to pour her something warm, not really waiting for an answer. He saw her gloved hands then, cut at the fingers to practice the finer points of journalism, as she liked to say. Nate drank her in, her gait, her hair, and her sure steps, and then his eyes finally ended up on those fingers that poured itself a drink.</p><p>"Piper", Nate walked around the table, his tiredness, and his sleep all washing away. How long had she been gone for? Half a year? More? He admired her; she looked <em>good</em>, strong, wind-beaten but hardy. He stood transfixed for only a second longer, coming closer he asked, "Have you seen Nat?" His mind went back a few hours ago when things had been much more hectic, scampering around with his cryolator and ending most of the unreachable fires and quenching their sources. Nat had been with a few other children trapped by the school building. Thankfully there were no casualties, the children had all decided to quiet down and hide during the commotion. Sometimes in crisis, the little ones somehow always made it through. Still, a broken bone on Nat meant she couldn't have walked.</p><p>"I have", she didn't face him, fumbling for a cigarette as she turned. Sipping the whisky slowly, she walked to the grand table that stood at the center of the room. Blowing smoke against her form she moved closer. On the table lay the chips, the synth components recovered from the reanimated. Eight of them strewn about on raw dry hide with mild creases.</p><p>He saw her eyes, widening as she moved forward, her hand outstretched and reaching towards the objects.</p><p>"Hey.", Nate called out.</p><p>She picked one up, then looked towards him, "And the bodies?"</p><p>"In the morgue down the basement, you know the place."</p><p>"Right, the fetishist," she said smiling downward, taking a drag.</p><p>"Un-huh, okay. So, what brought you here?"</p><p>"Folks were going to the ol' square, some in the synth coalition have agreed to give housing to the homeless, was gonna ask Hancock to tag along, The mayor showing face would be good for his image, the elections are coming, Nate. Hancock's continued tenure seems not assured, I'll remind you."</p><p>
  <em>Politics, great, and some things even the bombs can't kill.</em>
</p><p>"Wait. Just, how long have you been here exactly?" he asked flippantly.</p><p>"Nate, listen, you should come along too", she said, "looks good to have the 'Sole Survivor' showing up to support the mayor, you know."</p><p>"I'm busy. Working on something Hancock probably wants anyways. The people need answers, Piper, there's panic out there, and if the fact that synths became those monsters comes out", he didn't finish. She seemed to understand, nodding. For Nate, he knew the months of work, all to secure citizenship for the synth and ghoul coalitions living densely in Goodneighbor into the Diamond City would be ruined. A few synths had already been brought in, where signs of hope lay. The synths, those among them who had chosen to not have their memories wiped had given birth to widespread suspicion, populist fear-mongers among them notwithstanding. Synths come out of the earth to live as humans, members that could benefit society as teachers and engineers, doctors and technicians. Not like how it was before, the protocol by the Railroad that wiped synths clean of their memories and gave them simulated selves. They had staunchly denied that gift. Choosing to live with their choices, having been the only thing they had objected to once free. Those were the strange days.</p><p>"Dr. Amari could run those memory treks. You could ride one, again." she shook her head slowly, "Later maybe, after tomorrow. Don't worry. I'll be here."</p><p>"Thanks"</p><p>"Don't thank me yet. I'll need an hour, tops." motioning towards the door, "something about him as well", a mischievous wry smile so familiar grew on her face.</p><p>
  <em>Tom.</em>
</p><p>Nate sighed, only starting to speak as she turned around, taking a long drag as she went over to lounge by the couch. The cigarette resting between her lips, legs folded and leaning back. A small piece of paper slid between her fingers from up her cap, a pen emerged as well.</p><p>Looking at him, she asked, "So, you wanna start?"</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong>Tom</strong>
  </span>
</p><p>In the interim between dusk and twilight, the sky above appeared a clear blackish-blue from where Tom stood up in the Stands, the stars seemed to be poking holes in the night sky, leaking light. The floodlights he saw were all focused downward here, beams of light angled a foot away off railings that came from the thick posts planted equidistant, dotting the circumference of the stadium.</p><p>He stepped aside as a few people made their way through; the paths made of metal sheets were narrow and somewhat treacherous at places. Moving along brought more grumblings from above, a promise of a light shower on the menu as clouds moved in to hide the glittering stars. The trek through the upper Stands had brought him high enough to escape the glare of the floodlights marking the narrow paths below, providing safety in its light. Above him were clouds muttering a low grumble, a drizzle that had started not minutes ago brought out hazy reflections as bright glimmers off fast forming puddles shifted constantly and marked the darkened figures that splashed through them, to and from the still darkening embers of the fire that had ravaged the city.</p><p>The room was quaintly neat; among the few basic amenities of modern life, including a radio and a fridge, folded blankets, and pillows set on smooth, taut sheets. Dimmed fluorescent bulbs at four corners where the walls met the ceiling, identical to the affluent quarters here up in the Stands, made the whole room appear lazily gloomy. Two doors on either side further beyond the counter in the middle led to the bath and balcony, between them the iron mesh-covered window with spotless panes bordered by clean curtains.</p><p>The room was lined in cabinets, files and clipped sheets of varying levels of brown all shelved neatly. A counter strewn with pagers more recently interacted with, he found. Pausing, he noticed the rather old-looking chessboard by the bed, chipped in with grooves and reduced by age, giving a rounded feel to it; pieces ridden about, not being used as a dinner plate. Tom was impressed.</p><p>The clean floor a myriad assembly replica of patterns on a smooth rubber surface that mapped the entire floor, cutouts and all, wondering if he should knock, Tom decided it best to step in, feeling his stomach grumble. Light dizziness came and went past him, reminding him how famished the day had left him. He walked in.</p><p>"Captain?" Tom asked.</p><p>She sat on a long chair leaning back, the trailing cigarette smoke from a dying ember coiling lazily around her pale, loose arm. Her eyes closed, arms folded at her lap, a pressed-in needle placed parallel to a pack of smokes. Tom saw her bare feet, bound up somewhere at her shin. She turned her head then softly, looking up at him with one strained eye as she sat up, bringing up her arms in a coil to band faded flame-red hair. Her blackened, wrinkled eyes still adjusted as she ate in a small yawn.</p><p>She wore those common hide trousers cut short at the ankles and an identical but clean brown flannel like the one she had on before. Adjusting it, she replied. "So, the little pawn sent you", getting up, her voice a shade of raspy lime. "Guess the fucker ain't got time for my shit", she went on, chuckling bitterly. "So, what do you want?" giving him a look over.</p><p>Tom looked at her for the first time then, all day they had been around one another, equally entangled in the slow trudge of bureaucracy but now he saw her. Stark flame-like hair clasped tight, the curls beyond the knot falling softly across one side of her narrow face, the other side a display of burnt skin healed years ago. Her eyes were that no-bullshit kind of blue, the ones that stared you down and spit out your worth the second you seemed like you could matter. Tom could name a few NCR gals like her back west, and they were almost always trouble.</p><p>"Right now? Seems like I'm just a courier." He brought up the papers.</p><p>Raising her head and nodding knowingly, "That fucking right?" she said softly, eyeing him in silence for a moment, reaching into one of her many pockets down the thigh and pulling out a cigarette. Lighting it up casually she took a drag, exhaling before continuing to speak, "You know what I want? A fucking drink."</p><p>She turned from him, walking towards the fridge as she bent over to look for something within. The counter table between them was the only mess he could find in the pristine room. A scattering of pages, lists, tallies, numbers, and reports. His eyes darted back up at her as the fridge door slammed shut. Turning, she came back with a long bottle. Procuring two glasses from under the counter below she expertly poked out the cork with a knife that appeared out from under her as well.</p><p>Pouring the fuzzy, brown liquid that had a greenish tinge to it, she spoke "it's Mogg. Don't worry pretty boy, not gonna poison ya." she said, a momentary lilt in her otherwise tough-sounding visage. Picking up the glass and bringing it to her lips, trailing smoke around her that followed the twirling ember of the lit cigarette. Eyes never leaving him, the other glass outstretched towards him. Tom looked, the now clear brown liquid had stopped fizzing, only condensed vapors misting around it. Taking it with a nod he raised his other hand, bringing up the files he had brought along with him.</p><p>"Just put them over there," she motioned, trailing smoke. Tom nodded and went beside the bed, the terminal table faced the western wall housing the unit that hummed softly in standby, and beside it was the chessboard. Moving quietly to the side of the table to find a game in progress; a tricky endgame that favored white, if but slightly "You play?" he asked, motioning to the chessboard, as she looked up for a second.</p><p>"Used to, I guess", she replied going back down, busy going over a page that was on the counter.</p><p>Tom placed the file Nate had given him on the table, a stack of about two inches high on which he placed the yellow manifold, adding it to the ones similar to it.</p><p>"Thirty-seven dead, twice many injured, half of 'em are on their way to Goodneighbor right now. Mayor's gone with them." she sighed. Tom saw the window behind her, a spray and crash of droplets all over the panes, the rain a mild clamor muffled behind glass and metal. A minute or two passed like this, him going over the pages within; civilians mostly, third-degree burns among mutilated corpses and missing body parts that looked forcibly removed. The images attached to each a vague abstraction in his mind, abstractions he did not contend with. "You know what happened the last time synths went crazy like that here?" she didn't turn to him as she asked this; Diamond City below them was winding down, a hundred glints of light now dimming, one by one as the city fell asleep, though some would never go out.</p><p>"The official story is 'raider gangs from the east", she went on, animating those words with her face, "such fucking bullshit, no one's gonna buy it. Half the city's already talking about some human death claw hybrid or something."</p><p>"Anyone come forward to identify the faces?" Tom asked, remembering the abstraction portraits that had been set up by Arcade. Facial recognition was a solved problem apparently as both he and Curie had quickly arrived at agreeable renditions for each of the reanimated.</p><p><em>Even the girl</em>, he thought, though that one had been private, not even for Curie's eyes.</p><p>Not looking up, he flipped through the stack one last time, having already scanned the bunch with his pipboy by now, the whole ordeal performed quietly while keeping her engaged.</p><p>"No," pausing before she went on, "bodies are at Doc Sun's cave for the autopsy, we'll have a report by tomorrow", she stopped, her eyes getting caught somewhere on the list, "eight of those banshees, all dead but one. No one from the city, no DNA match against any resident either." she ended, looking up.</p><p><em>It really is missing,</em> Tom soon enough confirmed it.</p><p>He came back to the counter then, staring at the pages behind the glass he sipped, carefully processing those words upside down; names, places, people dead or dying. He sipped and followed along, soon enough confirming it to be true. This woman was compromised or if not then most likely framed; Tom didn't know which was worse.</p><p>He mulled it over in his head.</p><p>He looked at her again then, the cigarette having burnt itself out as the glass lay empty on the surface as well, a palm supported her against the counter while another held up a sheet, her eyes darting between the pages. He could bring her in. If words failed, well, a quick blade to the neck would cause enough blood loss to neutralize her, he could bandage her later well enough without Arcade's help. Or a chokehold to cut oxygen from her brain, safer if more involved. He eyed that glass, trying to remember if he had any blackbane and hist oil in his pockets when-</p><p>"Stop."</p><p>She looked up, eyes narrow. "I know why you're here, Courier. How fucking stupid do you think I am? You really thought I didn't see you up on the green stalking me? You might be a tough son of a bitch but you're dumb as a sack of rocks if you think you could tail me in my city and think I wouldn't find out."</p><p>She collected the papers, all of them coming into a pile neatly stacked aside. The glass came back to her hand as well, the bottle next to pour herself a sizable portion of it. She drank it all in one fell swoop, slamming it down not quite so gently, "You think I had something to do with this. Because of, of-" she grew quiet. Tom looked at her; his face must have been a scene of shock, to get called out. He hadn't considered it even considered it possible.</p><p>
  <em>How had she…?</em>
</p><p>"Zip it.", she sighed, looking back at him, "And close your mouth, you look dumber than pretty that way."</p><p>She reached behind her slowly, eyes cast down again on the contents of her hand. Deft motions had released a piece into her palm, gripped tight. He could see her knuckles, bloodless and shaking, "I killed her." she said with some finality, "But of course, something else came after that. And then you killed it.", Tom remembered milky white ovals, pale sand like skin, "I put two bullets in her and she was gone and that was it. That was Jodi. What came after wasn't, isn't- '', she halted, walls crumbling, staring down at the gun, the silvery finish on a custom 10mm, the leather fibrils around the grip burnt off, he saw.</p><p>She gave him a look then, not the look from the fire or the debriefing, later on. Her face was a serene mask, unreadable but the voice that had quavered moments ago now long gone. Turning, she walked behind him past the counter, pressing the switch on the radio along the way towards the chair. The wheels rolled her over to the bed, picking up loose pieces and the rest along with the board she came rolling back to the low table beside which Tom had found her resting. The cigarette between her lips, pieces set themselves in silence at her hand's motions.</p><p>The radio was a low hum of a tune, a woman's voice sang out, rising slowly in her crusty, rhythmic vocals. And like most songs, this one too was unfailingly about love.</p><p>"She was just a little girl; they never did tell you synths would be so <em>human</em>. Move like one, grow like one" she trailed off, "Once you knew what they were, you could take 'em in or turn 'em away, it's your move then", she paused, looking up and giving him a questioning look. Finding himself staring, he quickly found his senses and came to her. Pulling the counter chair to sit and started setting his side of the pieces. "Of course, the good people of Diamond fucking City didn't take 'em in. So we took as many as we could fit into Goodneighbor, not even half mind you. The rest started as tents in the beginning, but now their temporary housing standards outclass most of Goodneighbor. A twisted refugee situation if I've ever seen one. Makes humans look pitiful."</p><p>Tom was done; meeting her eyes for it was his move now playing white. Playing the king's pawn he asked. "You're talking about the Passing, right?"</p><p>"You don't know? Been living under a rock, have you?" She met his advances prompt, the board aside affair as her eyes set on him, "What do you think happened when the Institute went out of business, hmm? The place didn't just fucking blow up, you know. A lot of synths made it out, a lot of scientists did too. 'Course they turned their backs on the synths and integrated." She ended darkly, the game continued then on, the first few turns were used up as best practices were adhered to and practiced set formations drawn into place, he breathed out, sitting more comfortably as his back lay against the wooden chair rest, playing a new move.</p><p>He spoke, "The girl in the warehouse, you know why I'm here", Tom nodded over to the counter, "the files on one Elizabeth Hope went missing at the Exchange Hall. The only reanimated that wasn't reported in, the one I shot. There were nine, not eight. Already having DNA samples meant the trail wasn't too hard to sniff.", he looked at those incredulous eyes, "And guess what, no trail as to who or what bought her ticket into the great green, no tax record, no housing permit not even a medical file. But I'm guessing you'd know something about that." he folded his fingers in a knot, resting his hand on folded legs, watching her.</p><p>For a moment she didn't say anything, eyes unreadable. Then eyes went down to the board and a long moment passed before she decided to speak again, "The Lion.", her words were low, hand to her jaw covering one side of her burnt face, eyes on the board as her head stayed motionless, "Ripped out the bull's heart and sent the bear back running to the cave." She looked at him with those ashen blue eyes, what were those eyes saying? She had played her move, not looking away, "How many know?" she asked.</p><p>"Only me and my friend you met, the one that helped stop the fire.", he replied, starting to speak again, re-assessing then starting again, more softly this time, "You know how this makes you look, Fahrenheit.", playing his move.</p><p>For a time after neither spoke as she had decided not to proffer a reply, the moves did the talking for now. The game progressed swiftly from then on; a bloody one at that. The queens were off first then the trailing fights among knights and bishops in hopes of gaining ground, having done that left a handful of pawns and the rooks on the board, moving in for the kill.</p><p>"Okay, what do you want?" she finally asked, surrendering momentarily.</p><p>"The component, you picked it up out there when we were dragging those bodies. I understand sentimental tokens; I promise to return it if you'd want that."</p><p>"No, take it." she simply said, hands twisted, cupping her neck. Raising those flame curls, eyes focused on the board as one arm came up to tap a piece forward.</p><p>"It's in the left locker by the terminal, bottom compartment. Behind the shoes," her voice was monotone, "your move."</p><p>The game went on for another minute or so, Tom finding himself caught off guard, a pivotal misplay, and alas, the game was already decided a few moves prior.</p><p>"Tough, you're good," he said resigning.</p><p>"Playing long enough with a robot will do that to ya."</p><p>"Well, you win", He leaned up and was starting to stand when he paused, "Hey"; he reached into a pocket, bringing out a piece of paper. "Elizabeth Hope, burial rites for a grave out by the over-fields tomorrow." he got up, "I'll send in her name with one of the victims of the attack."</p><p>Her eyes were wide, speech having well abandoned her by now. Nodding he stood up, getting to the locker and reaching within to find it, wrapped in wool, dried and clean. He stared at the piece of tech, losing himself for a second in its infinite detail.</p><p>"Nate sent you to bring me in, didn't he?" she had gotten up, the document in her hand, "Why are you helping me?"</p><p>"This is all I need, so let's keep this between us, okay?" he waved the finger-long shard-like device in the air, "give her a better tombstone this time." he ended, remembering the rotting piece of wood. He looked at her again, those hard eyes. Oh how she had cried and wailed, far away and alone from all eyes but his. Had she known him to be there then?</p><p>Her voice was hush, channeling a quieter tone as she spoke with eyes that did not meet his, "People don't know this but the guy's got a synth kid just like mine", catching herself for a second, and finding her forgetting the events of the past day. Composing herself, trying to look nonchalant then, "High Lord likes to keep his precious toys safe." she finished quietly.</p><p>"Hey, listen", his voice caught her eyes, "we'll find whoever did this. I promise."</p><p>He saw her face; part of her was again the woman standing over the grave of a dead little girl. That face. And in a second and he was back in that old pre-war house in Goodsprings; the lazy afternoon sun that jutted into the still bed, slanting rays that silhouetted through half-drawn curtains in the afternoon heat, red hair falling over his chest, her head resting in his neck. His eyes had been closed but he could picture it so clearly. He started abruptly when a knock came on the wall outside.</p><p>Arcade wore his doctor gown still, carrying nothing sizable on him; the lanky man stepped in, making acquaintance with the Captain of the Guard.</p><p>Tom turned to Fahrenheit, a minute or so passed after which the signed document was under his coat lapels.</p><p>"I'll catch you around." she had said, Tom only nodding, "Don't doubt It.", he might have to count on a few new allies in this new quagmire he had gotten himself caught into.</p><p>The air had an earthy smell now, damp and smelling of all sorts as they passed along the lower stairwells down to Pipe Street, where they faced thick crowds through which they had to shove their way to enter the market roads further within. Arcade spoke up when the trail had grown sparse again, "Hope I wasn't interrupting anything there. We could all use a distraction right about now, I suppose." he softly said, breaking the silence.</p><p>Tom turned, half befuddled, "What? No, look." he brought up the shard-like object, Arcade eyeing it for a second.</p><p>"Nothing out of the ordinary, still no clue how any of it is supposed to work, you know. Can't get much from a dead one at least." the spectacled man replied slowly, truly tired after the frenetic day that had passed them both.</p><p>"We have a live one, you know," Tom said, looking at him.</p><p>"That chip is fried; it's working on prime directives now. No memories there either." he went on, "we need a sane one. A live, sane one." His eyes closed; massaging his temples.</p><p>Tom frowned, "Wait, why memories?"</p><p>"Hmm? Oh, you remember those memory pods the Brotherhood had in their bunker?" looking at him.</p><p>"Yeah, but what's that gotta do with this?" Tom asked, remembering the bunker in the valley and its many old-world relics.</p><p>"Well, a synth brain can be compartmentalized, data is sparse, and it's entrapped. The Railroad must know something we don't, someone sharp up there. They handled the whole synth integration thing before the Institute went defunct. Wipe your memories, set you up with new ones. That whole thing..."</p><p>Tom cocked his head, whistling, clearly impressed, "They can do that, huh?"</p><p>"My guess is they can do a lot more. The place's a cover joint, I wouldn't have guessed it, memory den of some kind, think getting addicted to your best days."</p><p>"Oh, you know it."</p><p>"Come on, tell me. You ain't curious?"</p><p>"Not really, no. Still, we should check it out."</p><p>Arcade looked onward, Tom followed to find a glow coming from the turning ahead, "Well, it's not in the city, a town out east, Goodneighbor. If we can find a live synth then we can walk its memories there or something to that effect."</p><p>Tom remembered the name, having heard Hancock and Nate go over that name while discussing the transferring of the homeless to synth territories someplace out east. He had been puzzled at hearing another town existing in the old abandoned city. All he had gotten from them was that there had been some sort of a disagreement among the races. Tom knew what that meant well enough; anti ghoul sentiment was nothing new from what he'd seen across the land, never mind the synth. The second a man stopped shitting five feet from where he stuffed his face, the minds started with their own twisting. He chucked inward, Raul always had the talent to put the big picture things into perspective.</p><p>They walked over the damp dirt trail that soon took on the semblance of a road, here below in the field of this stadium the roads ran like winding mazes. Identical metal boards and rusted sheets all similarly welded together with nail-ridden wooden planks among them.</p><p>As they were flooded in light, turning a corner to enter the night markets of Diamond City, finding the night prowlers to have come out, this, from an initial glance, looked to be half the city. Children and adults in all forms bustled along the narrow road, the roof sheds above them would negate the escape of any light, here the narrow streets were their own world, and a cornucopia of spices, cloths, and dried foodstuff stalked their every turn. As Arcade led them through groups of moving people, they ducked and dodged, pushing through man and brahmin alike, Arcade speeding up as the road led to fluorescent bulbs lining the metal stairs taking people to the Stands and the parapet above.</p><p>"We can go from here." It was a true story then, the settlements had mentioned labyrinthine lines of vendors where you could get lost all night. Tom saw sacks lining a store, a young girl hollering prices and busy in the act of a transaction, eyes darting around the crowd keeping wary.</p><p>"Yeah, up the Stands then", Tom agreed.</p><p>Arcade nodded and ten minutes later they were on their way to the upper gallery, facing the outskirts beyond the city's walls, seeing the tall buildings be dwarfed was a unique side, from here the plateau-like conjoined rooftops were reflected in the crescent moon's light, Jeweltown; a glint that was miles away.</p><p>Tom was leading him through the eastern road when Arcade turned and protested, "Whoa, where are we going?" he came close, "I thought we had a night scheduled for some exhumation, compadre", he hissed, "I brought shovels."</p><p>"What?" Tom curled his face, eyes rolling, "No, come on", he shoved Arcade up the stairs, leading to the wall parapets above them, and speaking up, and "I wanna talk."</p><p>The air here was cooler; in the day's events somehow the wind had never stopped blowing. A flock of turbines would work wonders in the region, Tom mused. He paused as he saw Arcade walk up beside him, "Seems clear enough, no patrols here tonight, and the guards are all in the streets, rest of 'em around the city few clicks up."</p><p>Tom nodded, seeing the light glow of the black pip-boy on Arcade's wrist, "So what's this about? Are we still digging up that synth or not?" the tall man asked.</p><p>"No, not for now at least, here, send this in with the burial duty tomorrow." he retrieved the sheet, passing it along to him.</p><p>"You sure that's a good idea? We could find something, you know.", as his eyes read that page in the dark.</p><p>"Seems unlikely, the last seven didn't give up anything and one of them is still alive." he paused, "No need to cut up another mutilated corpse.", Tom said wearily, reaching into his coat, the duster hugging him tight as the violent winds that blew against his back. "Take this", he handed Arcade a few heavy coins. The jagged metals were roughly cut, requiring careful handling. Slowly dropping it into Arcade's gloved hands, Tom looked up at him.</p><p>The spectacled man met his eyes after catching a glance at his hand, his eyes darting around as hands quickly reached pockets and were clean again. "Legion denomination, that wise?"</p><p>"Let 'em know. Send a message."</p><p>"Uh-huh. Right, message or, a threat you mean."</p><p>"Arcade, you know the Legion hasn't made it this far-east, those coins are antiques, I'd suggest you ask double for that."</p><p>"I wouldn't be so sure, I've heard about psychos in jock gear from the North and you know it too", he nodded to a passing man, moving with a woman who was by his side, arms entwined as they guarded against the oncoming cool air.</p><p>As he drifted into his thoughts for a second after silence befell, he remembered the old days in the sun. Having to face the unending horde of the remnants of the bull had been a long and bloody affair, one that had taken years from his life. After Caesar was dead, Gaius had been next. A few days stranded in the Divide and the answer had been before him all this time, all so clear. He wondered as he often did where Ulysses stood beneath the stars, wondered if the man could ever move on from the Divide. His eyes glazed over, remember some of what the Legion had thrown at him after. Remembering Arizona and its war-torn lands and seas of sand.</p><p>Shivering, "They're all copycats, and you know It.", Tom brought up a cigarette, a slim stick of white that crackled alight at the flip ignition. He took a drag, the warmth filling him against the shiver forming over.</p><p>Arcade turned, leaning against the railing, the stars were clearer here than anywhere else, somewhat like the view the old casino used to have. He could see the slight tilt over a thousand miles apart among stars that shifted in the nocturnal sky.</p><p>"Okay, they may not be the real legion but they still raid and kill like the rest of them." his friend argued.</p><p>Tom shrugged, and his thoughts found themselves back in the early hours of dawn, the compass, and Nate. In the last five years, none but Arcade and he knew of the illusive scanner. And yet, Nate had caught him with it on his first try, the man acted the crippled wolf but Tom could see those fangs, seconds before bare. He remembered moving up behind the older man, feeling his tightening of form as his knife had rested on the man's neck, his lady friend above, marking Tom for a high caliber bullet. The Solo Survivor did not fear him or anything probably.</p><p>"Must be lonely at the top" Arcade spoke up, making Tom look towards him. "Never mind that, hey listen" pausing and removing his rimless glasses, massaging the bridge of his nose. "That girl, Curie? I know you haven't gotten her scanned and all but" he trailed off, "Pretty sure she's a synth." he ended by saying.</p><p>Tom raised his eyebrows, the now spectacled man relaxed in his posture, "Modified Nanny-Bot, just a shell transfer." he said disarmingly with a smile, "Old pre-war simulation pods, remember?"</p><p>"So that's how you know." Tom understood, there now was a synth consciousness that had existed inside a Nanny-Bot prior; further inquiries informed Tom about Vault 88 and the science that had gone on there, Arcade told him more about Vault 111 as well, the place that had produced the cryolator. "She identifies as a synth; ''life from the machine' or 'vita ex machina'. She's even in an outfit, the Railroad. I've told you about them, haven't I?"</p><p>Tom nodded slowly, noting the Latin in his words. Eyes drifting as he remembered the fair-eyed girl, the chirping voice saying sometimes words he couldn't entirely make out. A synth, his mind aching as a new problem soon pried itself off to torment him. Tom remembered the quick handiness with which the girl had subdued the last living abomination, grappling deftly to trap it and locked up its arms, then tying up its face, a gag through its lips. She did seem too precocious for her age if anything. His thoughts then went to the burly man he had met first, the one who had started it all.</p><p>"There's someone I need to find. A man, six-four, six-six, maybe, hits like a truck."</p><p>"Right, he gave you those?" Arcade asked, motioning to his face. The wounds were a distant memory to Tom's mind but his face might still appear to be healing. He nodded, bringing out the compass, "Didn't get to use it but", it was gone, not a moment too soon. He felt the compass in the pocket, his hand clasping it within the creased leather folds. He turned around and moved past Arcade, unsure. The compass needle had stood markedly still, but pointing at whom? Nate had been standing before them and Curie behind him. Had the compass pointing only at Curie or had he really gotten that lucky?</p><p>He closed his eyes, taking another drag as he contemplated the meaning of such truths, their hero; an actual synth.</p><p>Arcade was looking at him now, paused and almost taking on a worrying look. Tom coughed and spoke quickly, "we should check out the undercity, find out more about that guy. Something tells me that man was not a synth."</p><p>Arcade frowned, "Yeah? How can you tell?"</p><p>Tom turned, smiling as he took another drag, "Well, for one he was afraid to die. Didn't chase after me, sent the others", he took another drag, the stick having run itself out, dropping and stepping on it he continued, "So that's a hierarchy, some form of a chain of command."</p><p>"And you think a human is ordering these synths, because? You know these synths are technically indistinguishable from any human and would absolutely act like humans in most circumstances, right?" he elongated the question, a friendly flavor of mockery in his tone.</p><p>"Most", Tom came up to him, "Someone's got these synths by their strings, Arcade. Plus this man, he was the only one who looked like he knew how to fight. The rest were," he remembered the young boy with fear in his eyes. Had he been reanimated? Their faces had been disfigured beyond recognition so he had not even considered it. Tom found it best not to dwell on those memories. The others had seemed ordinary folk, short and malnourished men common to the region, food being a common problem across the land, here like any other place. The season of sowing was yet to come, still months away until the first rays would be strong enough for the first seeds.</p><p>His mind cleared, the empty thoughts floating out as stillness came, and he tried to remember the jacket, the rod-lined leathers, those short crop features.</p><p>"I don't know, just a feeling. Someone in the Boston area must be helping these rogue synths. Someone's funding them, arming them, so a group. Those guns they were carrying? All with pre-war custom modifications, none of that pipe shit we've been seeing all over either."</p><p>Arcade nodded, he had to admit, and it all did look organized. Hence Hancock had thought it best to call it a raiding gang from the east. They said raiders were rampant beyond the hills south-west, but Tom knew little of what lay beyond those elusive mountains.</p><p>"Well, don't know about you but all this brainwork is making me hungry." Arcade stretched, adjusting his coat. Tom felt his stomach lurch up at the thought of food, yes; food would be good right about now.</p><p>"Nate wanted to see you, he sent me to get you, you know." As they moved beyond the quadrant, set downward the path along with the Stand's low establishments, coming finally onto the Colonial Taphouse at the of the row. A low huddle of people proffering the establishments beside with seats placed outside in the moonlight porch, the metal flooring with its multiple holes holding no rainwater once the weather had cleared.</p><p>Tom stepped into an atmosphere of warmth and smoke, as loud chatter and the slow hum of instruments playing on the jukebox filled the air, he saw Nate sitting by the corner with a woman, dark shoulder-length hair opposite him. His first instincts of escape were cut short when Nate smiled amiably and waved at him, a few people beside him started looking his way as well.</p><p>"I feel like there are a 'two men walk into a bar' joke waiting to happen here." The doctor beside him chimed in merrily from beside him.</p><p>Arcade only shrugged when Tom looked at him with a question.</p><p>Tom sighed, looking around<em>, Now, what have I got myself into?</em></p><hr/><p>Hey, ya'll, just wanted to say thanks if you made it this far, you reading this means so much to me :) Hope you liked it and will stick around for further episodes!</p><p>Any questions, comments, corrections, or criticisms are encouraged and appreciated!</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Episode 2: Blowing in the Wind</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Episode 2: Blowing in the Wind</p><p>A cool wind blew out across the upper Stands, against the morning sunlight glare the noodle store standing in the center of the Bowel below seemed a solitary destination among its many empty, winding streets; serving quiet bowls to the passerby folks who seldom stopped by to sit down in the early hum of the day. The wide roads were still empty this early into the day; long before the first trader gangs would come hailing through the four gates. Here, for now, Diamond City appeared a lazy scenery of a dozing dog and two people not quite alike who slurped bowls in the frosty air and remained silent otherwise.</p><p>A radio on the wall nail started suddenly as the automated store deemed it necessary then; a young man's voice sang out, a harmony of strings accompanying him from behind.</p><p>"How many times must the cannonballs fly, before they're forever banned?"</p><p>The tune was a new one, raising heads against the autonomous noodle bot, working away unnoticed. The men met eyes, both seeing each other for what they were for one solitary second, then went back down to their bowls, the moment gone.</p><p>How many years can some people exist, before they're allowed to be free?</p><p>"Good morning people, another fine day under the fine sun for our city here in the Commonwealth, and guess what? We have some breaking news for all you folks out there. After the tragic Boston Fire of yesterday, the camps were in quite the uproar where wounded refugees among the general public were positive on seeing him. Verifiable reports about a certain someone who has just arrived, yes people, now I know you've all heard the tunes about the bear and bull, and don't you deny it. The hero from the west is here, folks, the Courier is in Diamond City… Now if you see the young man, thank him for all the dead legions over the country. Also, bringing you Bob Dylan, thanks to a certain Mr. Gannon for lending us this golly tune."</p><p>Publick Occurrences</p><p>The Boston Fire</p><p>Spring Fair. Yes, that simple time of the year, that one day, right before the back-breaking work begins again for the coming winter. Our lives derive substance from this labor, its toil fills our guts long enough to know the world around us. Well, last night as I walked through the streets of my childhood, the mood over the night marts were a grim affair after the events that had transpired earlier. A low chatter or a quick peek along the shoulder, distrust, mistrust, all things leading the city to unrest.</p><p>People recount many variants among what they saw yesterday, many claim a deathclaw, only those cries had been enough to tell one monster from another apart. The fire that raged had destroyed more, extending more than seven blocks from the Cauldron to the Mitts quarters. And who comes to your aid, helpless citizens of Diamond City?</p><p>Orion.</p><p>As we speak, the homeless trek along the old roads of uncharted Boston, their mayor stood before them. Consider these coming days my fellow citizens, a question will be raised against every one of your humanity. Do not shut your eyes when the time comes. Look now at who helps your fellow neighbors, who came forward, who cares in this cruel new world.</p><p>In other news, we have another story for you. A very special man has entered the City, citizens. A hero from the west, hunting legion for the better part of half a decade, he and his companion have walked the old American roads. What stories could they recount? How many wonders had they seen? From one shore to another their path has led them directly to our City. What does it mean for us? The Boston Fire will always be remembered as the day when nightmares came true in daylight, and along with it came him, the Lion.</p><p>You have all heard the tale, sang those tunes. How will this man shape the coming days of Diamond City? The following times are eventful for sake of the Commonwealth; the Sole Survivor had this to say, "I'm working on it. This looks like raider work from over the mountains, I'll be leaving to find out shortly"</p><p>Yes, over the mountains out west, the remnants of the custom fashioned weapons found at the scene of the crime, along with it more tokens and memorabilia proved the existence of disciple agents among the attack.</p><p>Read on to find out what this new outlander had to say about Diamond City, having been seen among the company of the Sole Survivor and Mayor Hancock on the day previous.</p><p>[Paper Cont. d Pg. 2]</p><p>Piper</p><p>"That everything?" those hard blue eyes gazed at her, asking.</p><p>In the hushed clamor of the evening room thick with smoke and smell, she answered the handsome man, "Yes, actually. That will be all", a quick nod to Nate after which the slip of paper was gone from her hand, the tall man named Arcade nodded to her, smiling. Then conversation broke out, the upbeat doctor at its helm, asking plethora regarding the whole printing process upon finding out about her, more confirming than actually finding out to be sure. He seemed to know about her, strange that one was.</p><p>"Fascinating, so the 'Boston Fire'", the jovial man said with a flair, "Has a catchy ring to it, I'll admit. Takes you back doesn't it, huh Nate?"</p><p>The dinner then consisted of the usual conversations around food, Arcade chiming in with anecdotes and stories keeping them entertained. She saw Nate taking it all in good stride, both of them engrossed in talking about things before the bomb, Arcade was all too capable when it came to discussing authors or musicians or movies at length, finding it hard for her to keep up. The blond rogue paid them no mind, eyes closed, chewing. He seemed happy, Piper imagined.</p><p>She shook her head internally, finding herself a bit surprised if she were being honest, usually seeing Nate who had scant few words for anyone around him, back then especially. Always lost in a cloud of his own thoughts, and busy, always so damn busy. She looked at that face, maybe still. Never could get to you, not really. Never like her.</p><p>The jukebox was then dialed up and the smooth vocals of a new tune caught her ear. Later confirming the new song to be Arcade's design, grinning as he mentioned his little trek to the trailer out by the over fields. "Though I'd spread them around. Catching dust in the Follower archives, such waste!" he hiked up.</p><p>"As I walked by a dim café and I looked through the door. I saw my Flo with her new love and I couldn't stand more, I couldn't stand no more."</p><p>Her eyes rested on Nate for a moment longer in the hum of the tune, noticing the man she had once called husband; a week of unkempt beard on his face, eyes wrinkled and tired. She saw him take another sip from that steadily held glass, in the dark jacket and brown leathers down till boots, the look would make anyone see a regular here in the upper stands. Piper caught herself when Henry brought out the main course.</p><p>Her eyes then skipped a glance at Tom after a while, sitting as he looked past them towards the central crowd to the left. From the corner of the Colonial Taphouse where sat, she could make out the prosperous folk of their city, merry in their own ways. The fire that ravaged the city below seemed not to affect the Stands and the people who presided above. The one voting block that was staunchly against the synth migrations, well, not if she could do something about it.</p><p>Can't get anyone to lift a finger here without the Stands backin' ya, she remembered the wrinkled old ghoul saying, tripping at noon as usual.</p><p>"Well then make them listen. Look what putting their stock in that synth brought us," she remembered saying staunchly.</p><p>"We'll need him, you know..."</p><p>"I'll get him to us, trust me on that," Piper remembered replying, her promise to the newly crowned mayor of Diamond City, many months back now, being away from it all.</p><p>Catching herself she reached for her glass, a bad day to reminisce, opening her eyes as her pallet was left scourged. She was eating a few bites of the served portion when she suddenly realized the blond man to be looking her way. She met his gaze inquisitively, cocking an eyebrow. His figure somehow mismatched against the small table they sat against. As unassuming as a wolf in sheep's clothing, she mused.</p><p>"You wrote the Synth Manifesto. P. Wright." He simply stated Arcade and Nate both looking their way.</p><p>She stared for a second, taking a moment to find herself back in those days, the days before she had left the city. All those days down the old underground church and up by ol' Peggy. "Well I penned it, but it was a group effort. From the Railroad."</p><p>"Oh, no need to be shy Miss Wright.", Arcade spoke up, a knowing reverence that left her catching herself, "We know all about your plans to chronicle the times and life of one Nate Adams." he leaned back, saluting to the one who sat beside her with his glass.</p><p>"Wait, what?" Nate asked innocently, looking her way with that face he used to always make, making Piper sigh internally.</p><p>"It's nothing. Just something the Arcadians wanted. They wanted to see you actually, something important about the growing number of synths there." she ate her portions as conversations progressed further on, the meal finishing before them slowly.</p><p>Nate had only joked about not getting a day's rest, making a tertiary comment about perhaps checking it out sometime. Finally, their plates emptying, they all lit their cigarettes, the wine only a quarter bottles remaining as the conversation grew steady and languid.</p><p>"So, New Vegas. Do you guys have any contact with the old place?" Nate perked up asking.</p><p>"Yes actually, harnessing a sub-orbital satellite as a personal thread between your cups, well, can't say it was too hard."</p><p>"Come on, you're just boasting now. Remember the time you were about to launch a satellite over Alabama?" Tom said, bringing him down a bit.</p><p>"Now hold on, that was an accident, "Arcade said defensively, nodding a finger at the smiling boy, seeming his true youth for a second.</p><p>Piper saw the two foreigners bicker familiarly amongst themselves, that hard dry shell over the menacing man cracking away to reveal a devilish grin she was half drawn to, closing her eyes she focused on her drink, positive to finish it now. A few more minutes passed, the table having been cleared off, Piper absentmindedly going over her small piece of paper, recounting all she had collected. Tom looked up then, leaning up in the way of urgency, pausing before slowly starting again; she looked on, "So, Nate, what's the plan now?"</p><p>Suddenly the mood of the room changed, Tom's question brought out a quiet Nate, taking a long drag that he blew off before continuing, "We have the components, we know about the tenements in old Boston, something's gotta stick. Have you met Nick, yet?"</p><p>On Tom's shaking head he reached into his pocket, slipping a card down the table diagonally. Tom took it, flipping around as he caught a glance. "Private Investigator." The Courier said, eyeing Nate.</p><p>"Billy Roger, my friend will know more." was Nate's only reply.</p><p>For a moment, neither spoke, then, Tom understood as he was starting to rise, motioning to Arcade. His friend got up quickly, reaching into his pocket to produce gem-encrusted metal coins, sharp, dangerous but beautiful. They glittered in the excited fluorescence they were bathed in. Two green and one blue gem running through a copper-like, golden disc. Nate reached for one, grabbing its gem side carefully, the craftsmanship looked rough, a frantic assembly of precious metal and stone holding no uniformity. Arcade began, "New legion coins, carrying them is quite the issue as you can imagine." Piper reached for one, the blue gem was almost clear see-through, in the glinting blue she could see small bubbles entrapped, softly feeling the circular edge to test the edge.</p><p>"Doesn't compare to the old one, though", Tom produced another coin from where he stood, placing it before her, his hands back in his pockets.</p><p>"An aurei," Nate said breathlessly.</p><p>"From Caesar's own treasury, a gift."</p><p>Piper looked up nodding, no words to give. The golden coin shining on the wooden surface. The man smiled at her, damn that face.</p><p>Five minutes or so had passed while she sat busy, shading the insignia of the coin onto a thin sheet of faded paper. The symbol looked to be pronounced against the light brown coloring of the material, a circle-shaded disc. Having traced it she handed the coin over to Nate, holding it sideways by the edge, waiting for him to understand.</p><p>"Take the prints," she instructed him quietly.</p><p>Nate eyed her, and then those dark pools went down, slowly understanding.</p><p>"Just in case," she produced a plastic bag and dropped it down, sealing it in and placing it on the table. She was getting up, leaning in first to give him a peck on the cheek, and smelling alcohol on him. Patting his shoulder as she started to move out, nodding to Henry one last time.</p><p>The outside air was frigid, the partial moon well across the western sky. Looking about as she slid her hands into her coat pockets, the road appeared empty enough, turning, and she started walking. Moving through the old feeder stands where a pair of stairs rose through till the guarded parapets above, here she trod on a few feet to rise towards the military buildings that lined the oncoming street. Crossing over a dozen or so steps to come up to the barracks. The opening door led her to a golden glare as a single fluorescent bulb lit downward on a silent card game five individuals participated in. She stepped in, closing the door slowly as she folded her arms, lighting a cigarette as she found a seat in one dark corner for herself.</p><p>A young girl with a shaved head dressed in a single cotton gown came to her, "Mogg, make it a double."</p><p>She skipped away, the curtains flapping at her wake behind the counter a few paces away, another empty table was opposite her behind the main game table in the middle. Piper brought out her chit of paper, going over what the man had said, all of Nate's recounting and all in between long before a figure walked up behind her. Flipping the paper shut with her fingers she turned, getting up and hiding the paper among her cap holds. The redhead woman was giving her a cool smile.</p><p>"No fucking way, she's actually back." the voice sent her back years and after the whole day was done, Piper finally felt back home. They met a gaze halfway and were taken back to those days, days when it had been two girls against the world, old days, innocent days. It was enough, she had met her friend.</p><p>"You know it," Piper said with a candid smile, turning around and sitting opposite to where she had prior, Fahrenheit took her seat, the small girl bringing out the drinks on the brown tumblers placed on a flat piece of metal. The usual pleasantries once completed they sat in, finishing the first among many helpings of the drink.</p><p>An hour had passed, seven drinks having already been through her. Ren's questions kept coming, asking about Arcadia, the time there, the usual things as it went. Piper probed into the events from the day but her friend merely brushed most of it off, saying she was off duty right now. More time passed, the immediate questions once answered, the redhead woman went on, a familiar smile growing on her face as she came closer, "So, been seeing anyone new?" her eyebrows arching teasingly.</p><p>Piper's eyes glared at her familiarly, looking around before whispering with a smile, "Shh.", frowning as well before she asked on, "How did you know?" Finding herself genuinely curious.</p><p>"Oh, come on now. You didn't grow your hair out that old drunk now, did you?" Ren asked as if it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world.</p><p>"Well, there is someone.", she wondered if talking about Allen would be wise in the current setting, thinking better of it as she went on, as if on reflex. Piper twisted her neck, sighing, "Ren, listen", she grabbed her hand, it was cold, but still warm to her colder touch, Piper held tight, "he's having a hard time adjusting." Widening her eyes; Ren looked disarmingly at her, a sarcastic tone in her retort, "Well, get with the times then" taking a drink while looking at her sideways later, then huffing, "Fine, okay."</p><p>Piper nodded, was about to sit back when the woman spoke up again.</p><p>"Not done with you yet," finishing her glass, dropping a few caps on the table she rounded, "Let's go, Nat's in Goodneighbor and you need help with Peggy, right?" Ren asked, looked over at her.</p><p>Surprised she stood, only nodding as the older woman led her past the door out into the city. The road from then on led on as a quiet path before them, a few stragglers from the day before still about. She walked behind the taller woman, leading her back down the bowl and below to where she used to live.</p><p>"You still have the keys?"</p><p>"You kidding?'Course not," moving to the door and kneeling, looking around once before the pins out her hair harnessed the lock open with a deft click. Piper walked in first, reaching for the generator and finding the switch where it always had been. In the light, she saw the neatly tucked boxes and the machine that had a white cloth drawn over it. She pulled it free, expunging dust as she squinted through to look at old Peggy.</p><p>"She still works?" Ren came up behind her, her chin above Piper's shoulder. She shook her head, "Not sure, Lemme see…" She reached within the small coil that had been nailed in by her way back, she turned it to reveal a hole, and inside it the key that would kick start the engine. Taking a deep breath she thrust the key in, turning and then finding the grip, grinning, she then cocked the key twice, a slow hum roaring up as the silence was eaten up by the slow thumping of the printing press.</p><p>"'Kay, let's get started then" Ren spoke up, relieving herself of her jacket and coming over.</p><p>Piper did the same, her arms feeling the cool air of the unheated room, the luggage having been brought in already, she noticed. Getting the typewriter out of the zip bag next as she placed it on the table, taking the solitary seat before it. Cracking her knuckles as she nodded towards Ren, it was going to be a long night, wasn't it?</p><p>Whisper</p><p>The girl named Whisper wiped a light glowing sheen of sweat off her neck, ignoring an innocent fly buzzing near her ear as she worked quietly while a low tune hummed out the jukebox. Her back turned to the journalist lady, as she heard only soft murmurs and laughs coming from the table in the corner, confirming what she had hoped.</p><p>Mistress will want to know, yes, she was giddy inward.</p><p>Counting sullen footsteps towards the door finally, seven pairs of them moved out, creaking the wood back in place once the women had left and then finally returned the room to silence. Quietly placing the scrubber down she wiped her wet hands on the dirty green dress. Turning and walking through the curtained door to find a sleeping Ulna there, unaware of her carefully planned intrusions She undressed, finding the straps on her real clothes familiar as she reached under the bed for the rest. Finishing as she attached the pin that held her cloak onto her shoulders and a hood that came after.</p><p>Stepping outside, she heard the two women cross over to the main road, turning to walk the road westward. Ducking silently outdoors, she stepped onto the low boxes, finding a good grip that brought her quickly up the two-storied establishments, sliding into the burrow hole on the left side of the rooftop where she slid off the lid of a hidden compartment soon after. In the generous glow of crescent moonlight, the small vial seemed to contain a dark liquid as viscous as water, reaching for it as a needle came to her hand, a twist, and the metal pipe behind it removed. She dipped the hollow needle down the vial, her lips meeting it at the other end, sucking ever so slightly. Yes, a big dose for a big man. This should do.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>She was dashing over the higher Stands now, crawling and limbering over the roof of a stairwell where the lone man walked, the wet surface not a problem for her rubber soles, soundlessly scampering and diving as she rolled and lay hidden against all passing eyes. She was above the man now, him having already bid his friend farewell as the solitary figure now traversed the long, inconvenient road through the lower streets of Diamond City, far to the other side of the Stands, a simple bribe. Here in her element, she moved with the shadow, getting very close to him, her small bamboo stick coming up to her mouth, one check around the road, and then she blew air.</p><p>His hand was fast, getting there before the needle did, the poison not reaching the neck, subduing his hand as the man turned instantly, a gun began to emerge out his left hand. She vanished, moving and dashing across the narrow pathway as bullets ricocheted off the narrow collision space. Moving effortlessly upward she disappeared from his view, turning to find him downward but finding herself surprised instead.</p><p>The road was empty. For a second she was still, then a sound.</p><p>Gripping her pole-stick she twisted over, the hand that had lurched out to grab her left the man imbalanced. She moved in, another needle in between her fingers, when had he gotten there? Focusing, the girl twisted, the man lunging with his still working hand as those knees started shaking as she had known them to have by now. She stood a safe distance away with her stick in front of her, another needle she twisted in the air and threw with some flare, the metallic pin almost invisible in the night as it appeared poking out the man's exposed neck soon enough. She could see that face in the low moonlight, a labored expression on that long, fine face. Whisper caught herself, bringing her pole came close in a defensive stance, soon removing his feet from the ground, a thud with which the man fell unconscious on his back.</p><p>So much for the Lion, she thought, wondering just where had hidden her ride in this damn city.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>A couple of hours had passed after her short stint, for now, she sat against the wall hidden in the shade of the undercity dark where she ate quietly. A simple routine of an unchanging life, until. A loud thump, what was that?</p><p>She got up; eyes shot upward, the piece of food was already gone. Taking her stick she reached up the broken window ledges, a few moments later the wind-blasted against her fluttering cloak while she sat crouched and watched the silent horizon. That sound, what had it been? Finding barely a thing in the darkness over the city's expanse. Her eyes had failed to adjust in time; she decided when all appeared to be serene. She came down to look over the edge, boney legs dangling down the height of the rooftop. The man lay sleeping on the ground far below, a flat trolley on which she could hear his soft snoring noises. The man might look half pretty if he didn't crease out his face frowning that much, she decided. Grappling downward as she came with a soundless pat and started pushing the wheeled toy down the quiet hill. Stepping onto the surface as the wheels in their low gurgle brought her far down to the lower side of the King's Road, turning to find the small hole closed off. After she groaned and cursed for a bit, then circled the grand building now collapsed in on itself to finally reach the Arena.</p><p>The door front was dark now, the show long over for the night most likely soon she found a snoring Jimmy on the chair, totally oblivious to how exposed he lay. Shaking her head she pulled the trolly behind her with both arms, moving into the main chamber where the torture slaves were put, finding the displays empty she deflated a bit. Then deciding to move into the opulent main theater, the tall cage rods running up the walls before her as her eyes soon found the main hall below empty of all living things.</p><p>"CAIT!" she cried out.</p><p>Nothing, again, and then she did it again.</p><p>Soon, a few men came hollering out, troubled out of drunken stupors no doubt. She left the trolley handle and walked down the sidewalk, feeling somewhat thirsty after her dinner.</p><p>Tom</p><p>He was dreaming then, not knowing the warm cast of summer heat encapsulating him to be a fake one. He stepped quietly into the room; Ambassador Crocker sat silently in the center at his too tiny desk, reading something intently through thick, small glasses. The room was gently lit against the midday light, a modest opulence in the bureaucrat's distant abode. A soft chatter among lower officials ending behind him he stepped forward onto the carpeted floor, this time desperate to make it work.</p><p>At his muffled steps the older man looked up, the aging figure was tired behind those slumped shoulders, the final push so close, a victory almost but decided. But for whom? "Sir" Tom spoke up. The aging man raised a hand, making Tom wait a moment longer before letting him approach after having finished something. Moving, Tom then went on to sit opposite him, looking intently at those eyes. A moment passed as pleasantries were exchanged, the thin veneer of small talk once passing quickly, Tom spoke up again. "You promised, sir. The Van Graffs have to be brought to justice, you know it."</p><p>"I understand your concerns, son. I take it as a sign of good faith between us that you didn't bring that firebrand along this time. Yes, that one could kick up a storm" the balding man looked towards the door through which he had entered, making Tom turn for a spell, making him remember the last encounter with the man he had had. Finding himself, Tom spoke, "This is not just about her, sir. Don't you care that NCR citizens were murdered in NCR territory? There are murder cases out running on these victims. Come on, Ambassador, do what's right."</p><p>"What's right?" he said slowly, rising, turning against him then, moving to the curtained window. From the inside he could make Rose out there, sitting arms crossed and legs folded, waiting intently. Her posture told him enough, that this time around she wasn't going to take no for an answer, he was sure. "And how would you know what's right, hmm?"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tom walked out of that suffocating hellhole, the bright morning sky was quiet until he heard those tempered footsteps come on from one side, and the woman looked at him with a frown, tapping her feet. Smooth leather pulled over a white dress patterned red; he saw the Cassidy necklace on pale, windblown skin.</p><p>"I told you to not leave me here, didn't I?" she then shook her head, more tired these days than actually angry, that was the worst. Taking the files from his hand suddenly, she turned, looking at them intently after having brought them close.</p><p>"So, the fucker won't budge, huh? Well, we can do this our way then," she said dangerously as a smile grew on her pale face, feeling the holster behind her belt, he saw from behind.</p><p>Tom walked up disarmingly, "Hey, listen. It'll just take some time, you know how this works."</p><p>"Yes," she moved back, "I actually do, now." Rose started walking away from him, not letting him catch her back or drag her down this time, those blue jeans getting out of reach one last time, "I'll be at the Wrangler, tomorrow at first light." Looking his way once more, "This is how it's gotta be, Tom. I hope I can count on you."</p><p>His breathing caught and he was gone.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tom's existence was the pain. Waking suddenly to fight bright light leaking right into his skull as the beginnings of a crippling headache was soon taking over him. He sighed as he shut his eyes, forcing himself to sit upright, lids that were slowly allowed to adjust to the view around, finding grim scenery. He saw the rod-rimmed cage he was in, amongst the other three that stood empty. Well, not his first time but still, he looked down at himself. A simple hide trouser that came up to his knees, nothing else. A slow rise of steps came hinting of a case of stairs upward, sounding someone's approach soon after. He waited, seeing a short but sturdy woman come forward, eying him with an intense gaze in the somewhat darkened room, eyes that were emerald green against the small vent passing light down her face if but partially.</p><p>For now, the woman went to the table sideways, speaking up suddenly, "Get up now," a thick accent made with her lower jaw, he looked at her with a question once more before understanding and doing as she ordered. In the hazy reflection of the mirror she looked on for a while, on his side, the mirror showing a scarred body, corded and hard, muscles that ran down his long arms between a rugged core, arms coming far down to his thighs, the slick pipboy on his wrist had small useless etchings on it, vain attempts at prying it off the mechanical hand.</p><p>"Can ya fight?", she asked in her thick accent, "We'll pay ya, better than any caravan babysitting out there, for sure," pronouncing those last words roughly as she went on, finding herself then staring at his face once she had come close. "Pretty one, aren't ya?" she brought her hand into the cage, grabbing him by the chin. He felt stray strands of hair scrape her strong fingers, soon realizing his newly shaved head as golden cut hair lay fallen around him he later saw when she had let go.</p><p>"Jimmy! Come here!" she turned and walked back, speaking up the stairwell and calling out to someone who came hurriedly down to join them soon enough. The young boy opened the cage, helping him move groggily out those metal bars that had been raised ever so slightly above the ground to torment. Lumbering over with hands heavy, bound in metal bangles tight against reddening skin, he stood still and watched. He was taller than both by about a head and a half at least, the smaller boy stepping a few paces back as he handed the keys to the woman and left hurriedly.</p><p>"Come on now, time for the show. If ya live? I'll letcha go, with the caps you win, 'course" green, jolly eyes met his; her hair came down a knot to her one side, a shapely stone on her one exposed ear. She walked forward while finessing some mechanism that then activated the rotors. The door to their side opened a shutter; soon widening as it disappeared to let in bright flashing lights. His eyes adjusting to the line like rods he saw rise up to the far above ceilings. Below were three men, all with sticks and knives and metaled knuckles adorning them, taking in the crowd. "Here, try not to die, would make a terrible ending to yer' story.", she said, dropping the thin key behind him.</p><p>The shutter was quickly closing behind him as the key lay still on the sand half-submerged; he dove grabbing at it at once. As he fumbled on it a voice spoke up, surprising him in its loudness in the already cacophonous reverb of the room they were all in. An announcer's voice sounding completely muffled in the inward clamor around him. Soon, he moved then, eyes adjusting to the bright lights fully that he squinted through and looked about to find the group of three; reliving familiar motions. The key smoothly reached the hole and twisted, the two metal clasps smoothly came off as they clinked against each other while Tom held the chains by the links, arms primed as he moved closer to the three who had still not noticed his approach.</p><p>The key shot out first, a meaty thump. Two of the men turned, bringing out their weapons, the third who stumbled back flinching seemed out of it for now. A knife slashed at him, the bladed lick inches off him as he leaned back, turning and finding the claps and the link to tie up the assailant's arm, twisting hard once and disarming him.</p><p>He turned then, the last man with the melee knuckle looked frenzied, a cocktail of drugs on legs.</p><p>Great.</p><p>The man came at him, fast blows and hard knocks to his skin, the metal behind those blows being used to their fullest utility. His opponent came in strong; the dizziness in his own mind shuffling the world around him as he felt himself fumbling, catching a short glance of the man crouching down, reaching for a knife.</p><p>Tom stepped back, focusing his eyes as he leaned in, a defensive stance he assumed in the interim. He moved first while the knife lunged after, grabbing the arm and twisting it, his knee coming over the neck as the arm was protruded upward unnaturally. A yelp that died out as the knife fell to the sand; the clamor around them had not ended the entire time he had toiled.</p><p>He gazed around; hundreds of darkened eyes in the shaded crowd that cried out their throats, most sat while a few overzealous ones stood cheering. The stout floodlights blinded him against the further reaches of the sitting arrangement that seemed to rise farther and higher the echoes of the cries went.</p><p>He turned, finding the cheers for someone else; the redhead woman was standing behind him, arms folded while leaning in on one leg. She didn't have any weapons, only her fists wrapped in cloth; arms she brought close and ran as the fight had begun. Her blows came fast; he dodged one as he ducked the other, trying to find an opening when getting easily caught in a chokehold around his neck. Her sweet smell filled his burning nostrils, seeing double before his very eyes. Her warm breath came up behind his neck, disarmed, neutralized as he lay there grabbed, sinking, sound dying in his ears, then blackness came over.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The room was cool, the surface on which he lay sucking him in with a slight ache in his back, opening his eyes to find a darkened room that he tried to rise in once sense came back under his reign. Giving birth to pain in his motions among joints and bones as his feet found the cool, carpeted floor next. A smoke incense burner on the bed stand gave off a thin line in the quiet of the night-bound room, the sweet scent hung heavy in the air, misting as it rose above to the ceiling. Rising he found himself naked, turning at once to find his trousers, finding it on the bed beside the-</p><p>He looked up; a woman was draped in blankets turned against him. Light traces of sweat beaded on her back, the naked pale skin rising and falling slowly as he stood there a moment still as stone, watching.</p><p>Grabbing his pants he quickly found something to put on over him, going over the room quietly as he reached for weapons or something in the darkened room. Finally, finding nothing, turning to reach for the doorknob when a voice spoke out behind him. "If you wanna walk out on me, don't be so loud about it," she said those words laying on the bed, eyes closed and still sounding sleepy, sounding tired. The woman turned slowly, bringing her form to the center as the sheets around her twisted like white petals, one arm came up to her collar bone, hiding what little he had not already seen. Dark green eyes staring him down somehow familiar.</p><p>"Um" Tom was only beginning when she turned, finding her small clothes by the counter as she skipped up, quickly pulling up brown trousers right up in front of him, "Oh don't worry, luv'. You've seen a lot more than just that I can promise ya," slowly eying him, a mischievous lilt in her otherwise polarizing tone, Tom sighed internally, trying to remember just how- "Okay then, come on now, seems like yer' getting bored. I've got people lined up below, thirty caps increment," she added the words and looked up at him, having come too close by now. Waiting for his eyes to stray inevitably downward as she held his eyes. She turned then, once she had won, "Bastard" whispering the worlds softly with a tisk and going over to the couch, a nondescript shirt she then grabbed and pulled over her, hair coming over in a knot soon after.</p><p>"So, you gonna come quietly, or do I have to use my charms again?" she sat by the bed as she asked this, legs folded and one arm supporting her leaning back. Tom found himself nodding, his mind was still hazy. What drug was that? Jet? No, not that kind of high. He looked back at the bed, flashes in moments of heat gone by, came back to him at an instant, leaving him more disoriented than before.</p><p>Tom shook his head again, reaching the door ledge for support, "Fine."</p><p>"Great" she got up, a key reaching into the hole behind him on the door while she locked eyes with him, "fifty caps for the first one," she said, watching him for a second.</p><p>Soon Tom was out following her down a few levels of stairs, finding himself back to the four cages strewn about from before, his one now the sole property of a sleeping ghoul apparently, "thirty extra from then on, quite the pretty penny" turning back to him when she found him not by her side, "what? Oh let him be, he's for tomorrow." The caged ghoul lay slumbering, not moving at Tom's poking hand so he moved past the cages, coming back to the retractable shutter beyond which the low murmur was now becoming clearer, his mind getting some of its clarity back as the rush of something started moving through him.</p><p>"Here" She called to him, looking up.</p><p>She handed him the knives, long yet gracefully, clasped both in one hand for they were not heavy, limbs were not heavy. He took them, nodding at her, "Kill them?"</p><p>"Yes, preferably." a cigarette was then out into her lips, burning quickly. Taking a puff she pushed a button that hummed the fused mechanisms around the door as the clamor behind the iron mesh slowly parted the view of metal to reveal the arena before them. He could already smell the deep layers of sweat and piss out in the fields from the shaded box he was in. He grimaced, moving forward to face what came.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The room was lit in the mild glow of the burning candlesticks, the crowds already having left for the intermission, he was told. He leaned back, the so-called throne was somewhat comfortable, he supposed. Half missing wool in those old crusty cushions, suspicious dark splotches too many among them to count. His eyes went out to the room, he saw Jimmy sitting by, looking intently at him as the woman called Cait was staring him down, furious. His eyes also caught the small girl who had handily stung him down; giving her a look he met the woman's eyes next.</p><p>"Didn't I tell you to kill them?" she asked slowly, a dark expression on her face, this woman was definitely crazy, Tom surmised on the whole.</p><p>"I asked and you said it was 'preferable'" The Courier rose, his head clearing as he was starting to move forward out the door, he still had his pipboy, that was enough. A hand came to his chest; she came up after it, pushing him onto the so-called throne. Coming onto him too fast to register, her lips met him, a bitter taste of whiskey doused in cigarette ash, leaving him then, green eyes locking him down, those narrow freckles appearing numerous around her nose and eye, arresting him to the chair.</p><p>"Where do you think you're going?" she asked merrily, those eyes swirling around his vision, her motives entirely unreadable in them.</p><p>"I'll take my caps and leave." Tom could feel the long, pointed blood-red fingernail scratching his chin, not too gently either.</p><p>"Pity", she whispered with a tilt of her head, "you didn't kill them, did ya?" she shook her head, staring back at Tom who made out fine scars on that thin, pale neck that had come incredibly close to his face even after their awkward kiss</p><p>Tom frowned, then grabbing her thin arms, "Then give me my weapons." He finally said.</p><p>She left him then, moving back as she turned around and went to the side where a door was pulled open, at once allowing his guns to free fall to the ground below. The long pieces of GRA hardware were a strange contrast against the hovel they were in now. They all fell at once and then were motionless for all to see.</p><p>"Pretty guns you have here. Mind sharing?" her hands were on her knees, looking at him while she leaned into the newly amassed pile.</p><p>He walked up to the pile, reaching downward, "Just give me Mysha, and keep the rest. Oh, and my clothes."</p><p>"Oh. You look better without them on, luv'", she bent down and grabbed Bozar, the huge rifle coming easily into her forearms. Visible muscles that he could see flexing against the enormous weight. He remembered the chokehold he had gotten from her, his mind going further back to the old man on his neck from yesterday for a few moments, bringing himself back when he heard Cait go on. "Eyh, Jimmy, take a look at this," the short boy came to the pile and took a C4 charge off the ground, the solid block held in his joined palms. Tom worked silently, putting on boots and belting his coat, the revolver holster came on last, and all the while his eyes watched the boy, lest he blew them all up. He was rising when he saw the same little girl grip onto the long anti-material rifle that lay slanting over the MREs next, bringing it up and checking the magazine in those tender arms. The tiny thing would take years before she could finally master it; he shook his head, moving past the pile he looked behind them one last time. Checking his pipboy as he cocked the magnum cylinder and checked the optics, turning it around one last time as he asked the three, not caring who really answered, "So, where are we exactly?"</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The sight before his eyes were of verdant stone forests unexplored for ages, Tom had seen many wonders across the great lands; along which his footstep alone had been the sole thing of man to tread across or ever reach for generations gone by. But for now, he was lost, as lost as had been in the streets of yesterday before everything had happened. He moved slowly against the cool wind, pathing east as he realized the absence of sky walkways above him, staring to find a cloudless view above, the steep brightness few eyes span away in the form of the sun partially hidden behind enormous buildings completely vacant and ruined. Squinting downward he moved on, the warmth filling him as buildings soon disappeared to reveal a clearing of some sort before him. A still pond at its center and surround, winding with a design, Tom watching the silent park, quietly wondering on a toy swan floating upon it, on its proportional size to the surrounding and those strange splotches of blood painted its surface. Leaving it behind he moved east through the Commons by lane next.</p><p>An hour passed like this, the sun has come up high, no direct shadows formed in the rubble-ridden road, for now, short shadows amongst the glare of the sun that hit most surfaces before his eyes. He turned then, his ears picking up something in the quiet scuttle of insects abound, what was that? A light tune, a melody that grew strong as he moved further northward. Tom turned a tall building north to find an empty road before his eyes, moments later finding a mountain of old stone and wood piled up as if ceremonially. On the apex of it stood a tall man supported on one leg, the other balanced still in the morning wind as a statute-like figure stood unmoving before him.</p><p>Tom moved closer, seeing the man be barefoot, one leg clasping the uneven tilt of the halved concrete bar, those metallic grey eyes were looked upward, Tom followed them up to a murder of crows quite familiar to him, locked in a gaze with the stranger. He reached downward, picking up a few stones. Deciding on the one as he took it and tossed it out his palms, looking at the man he soon realized the man had no hair on his skin, whistling in the silence, eyes trained on those suspicious birds. Tom threw a hefty piece of rock half the size of a crow probably, flying true and going past two that sat by staring back at the strange man, oblivious to the disturbance as the birds sat by motionless as Tom had predicted them to.</p><p>"See it's not their time to move yet." Tom turned and looked up at him, the man had turned to face him by now, smiling. The stranger ducked then, coming over to his side unnaturally as his feet found traction across the uneven heap of rubble. Effortless, as his white gown-like clothing fluttered in the air as he came to Tom with a soft step, a man in control of his body, it seemed. He saw the man was well muscled, as broad as he was tall, a perfect human specimen, not a wrinkle or hair in-sight as well, making it hard for Tom to age the being. The person had its eyes cast downward, thinking.</p><p>"They can only do as they're told. As is in their nature." those eyes caught him off guard. He reached for the compass, not sure if he was elated or the opposite at its discovery there. He felt the device still, yes, that's how he knew. The device stood still, the needle within unmoving, confirming his suspicions. The man then turned from him, walking past, his naked legs were clean and white he saw, thick calf muscles that hugged those free steps on a rocky road, "They're all creation, all things living."</p><p>Tom pondered on those words for a moment and then stepped forward not knowingly, meeting the stranger who had turned towards him. He reached forward and gave a hand that had not been asked, speaking then almost involuntarily, "I'm Tom."</p><p>"Orion, son of Dima", one of those large hands met him firmly, shaking a few times before being relieved. He stood watching the man, Orion, where had he heard that name before?</p><p>"A man can wonder, for why did the Lion cross over to greet our humble herd," the smooth face looked at him pointedly, robotic and rigid in its moving head but a deep sense of sameness in the human in its voice, something that jarred inside Tom's mind. He moved around, coming between him and the crows. The dark visage of the group high above croaking as the silence was broken by the tall man.</p><p>"Pay no heed to the little ones, they squeal only as they know how", the man said kindly, coming close as he motioned to his side, "Were you coming to visit us alone?", the taller man asked, motioning towards his left.</p><p>"What?" Tom asked unknowingly, looking left. He heard the march then; a sound at the side along the road he had come through, those same voices grew louder as his sights soon showed him a mass of about two scores moving up the road towards them, in the midday visibility he made out more acquainted faces among the crowd. Nate came up to him then, looking somewhat puzzled, Arcade having arrived behind at his step a moment later.</p><p>"There you are," Arcade began, "you said you'd be going out alone for the night but then you were gone the whole day." The doctor came up, prodding him in a lower tone where Nate and Orion could hear them, he spoke up soon enough, "Wait, you got a haircut?" Tom only shrugged, giving him the 'I'll tell you later look', seeing Arcade quiet down after that.</p><p>Orion came forward promptly once the friends had met, coming in, arm out forward as he greeted Nate, nodded toward Arcade in the process as well, the very picture of austerity etiquette, seeming much out of place, Tom had to admit. The group started its march once again onward to Goodneighbor, the crowd soon passing around the rubble and the dark rows of crows that never left their perch from atop that ledge, watching.</p><p>Nate</p><p>The oblong pathway through which they walked led them towards the inner slums of Goodneighbor from then on; here were quickly placed together tents in which men and women of all sizes slept or lay in varying degrees of duress. Nate gestured towards a few as he walked through the road further inward, taking them into Goodneighbor proper. Before they were through the gate they met the mayor, John Hancock, who looked sullen and their way in the bright sunny afternoon once Nate showed up. His crimson coat held tight against the wind as the old man seemed truly tired, having brought about sixty or so homeless overnight here from over the city. The old ghoul smoked a cigarette, motioning their way when he saw Fahrenheit move behind them at the door, motioning it open. Here the streets were clear, Hancock coming over a group of people who lumbered over a crate, lined in identical weapons stacked deep.</p><p>He eyed the red-haired woman, coming close, "What's this, Ren?" Nate asked.</p><p>"Protection, the synths gave us the schematics. Thought you knew" she eyed him warily, Nate stepping away gesturing as he came up against Piper then, busy conversing with the man who'd just become the most famous person in all the Commonwealth. He looked at the tall creature, a synth like no other. No one knew what Orion did before he had been freed. No one knew what the scientists had wanted out of him, not even the five heads knew. Nate sighed, what are you playing at, friend?</p><p>They were seated in the old world quarters below where Hancock's cabin had previously been before everything had changed. The tall synth sat back straight as he looked sideways out the window, somehow majestic in his posture. Nate got up, seeing Curie sitting beside the doctor and his friend, Piper had arms folded over by the door that she leaned in on, Hancock before him and Fahrenheit by the window, all waiting on him, all but Orion. He began, not for the first time in the day.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"And what of the partition among the railroad, what of them?" The pale eyes asked him kindly, bringing all the gazes onto him. The better part of an hour had already passed, an hour having been spent already on top of it. The day was now cast in the long shadows in the afternoon sun, Curie and Arcade sat beside one another, whispering slowly as he watched the road below, from here the view was of the old shanty houses that ran down till the walls. From the corner here you could find Dr. Amari within, yes, needed to see her as well. After a few more words were traded regarding the logistical issues on food and supplies for the refugees, Orion had stood up, smiling to the crowd as he had mentioned some important business that required him elsewhere. Soon walking barefoot out the room as the man always did through the huge double door before Nate.</p><p>For a time after they were on break. Tom seemed somewhat out of the whole ordeal they were collectively stuck in, seeming pale and somewhat tired. And where had he gotten that haircut? He reached for his forehead when the large double door stood open once more. The door gave entry to an aging woman this time around, coming smoothly over as she found a bopping Curie at the older woman's command manifest beside her. She then finally sat on one of those single armchairs. Dez, right, she would be here too. Nate came up, pausing before he began again as the hawk-eyed woman gazed at him fiercely, their talks continuing thereafter.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Tom, he saw, had left the room rather quietly. Curie was puzzled to find an empty seat when she had finally turned away from Dez to introduce the man to her. Another hour or two of talks over the attack then progressed, the clashing factions forming within the Railroad, reports of legion activity in the horizons, et cetera. Nate tried not to focus on the minutiae of things when Curie walked up to him, holding up a glass. He took it from her, in the moonlight her smile showed pristine pearl-like teeth, she walked back, rejoining Piper who stood alongside Ren. He looked around more carefully this time, finding Dez missing, yes; she would have already gone out. He turned his head to his left, finding a half-opened door towards the inner chambers where most likely Hancock lay, sleeping. The empty chair that was pressed in also revealed the absence of Orion, the son of an old friend. He shook his head, remembering what Piper had told her.</p><p>He grimaced, facing the icy bay waters of the north would be a tiring ordeal right about now. He eyed the lone doctor then, sitting rather plainly against the eastern wall, watching. The girls were all sitting around conversing while the lone man pondered on something. His pip boy was brought up, him looking into it, the squarish glare off his reflecting glasses as Nate walked close, glass in hand as he had found the doctor to already be enjoying a glass for himself. The man leaned up gesturing to Nate as he moved closer.</p><p>"So, long day, huh?" the taller man asked empathically.</p><p>"Sometimes, it's every day." he sighed, shaking his head and looking about, "We could get out of here, the talks are done for the night, say we hit the tap?"</p><p>Arcade looked below, adjusting his spectacles then continuing, "Friend, I can be your wingman." he said with some determination.</p><p>"Uh-huh. Okay, I guess." Nate found himself saying as he found Arcade rising.</p><p>The girls had already taken notice of them as Nate saw the women walking up to the pair, Curie had already left apparently, no doubt busy desperately still required in the medical tents outside. As the four of them talked, soon the idea of moving the gathering over to the Third Rail seemed like an excellent idea, after all. Arcade added that he was elated to meet Magnolia, the lady on the radio. Nate only sighed, moving along with the group to find Hancock slumbering in an inner room sofa, refusing to move. He nodded to the tired old man and turned back, finding the group in the cold, empty street.</p><p>Fahrenheit</p><p>The path from where Third Rail took you had been a key location in the pre-war bustle of an old transit line, now the empty tiled steps led them quietly down an open-ended chamber complete with lines and layers of pipes and valves, devices turned into decorations in hopes of adorning the long, chilly room. A tall building that Nate had told her had been all but a means to an end. The place was quiet, which was for a change, then turning and she saw how really empty it was at the odd hour of their visit.</p><p>At once her head turned the corner, finding the woman to be sure there; in that red, sparkly dress Magnolia looked just the same, after all these years. She moved her eyes farther inward then as they were all coming together at the center of the establishment. Another man with a cowboy hat and what was that? A guitar? Yes, she saw the instrument be pulled out, Magnolia smiling the older man's way when Tom came into her view, somewhat disheveled and completely lost of all his golden hair, she eyed his head questioningly, somewhat saddened to see all that majestic hair gone.</p><p>Running a hand through cropped hair and smiling as only he knew how he eyed her, his questioning gaze and words later were then met with answers she gave in short, telling him of how much nothing had been accomplished in the whole while he had been gone. Tom nodded slowly, feeling the side of his head as he went to Whitechapel at once and sat alone on the stool by the far side of the bar counter. She then turned, seeing Nate and Piper be already over by the singing booth, damn did those two go well together. She saw the strange vault dweller wear simple fabric common to the Boston region these days, doing a much better job fitting in. Short leather over wool and dark books that matched wide belts by the waist. The man smiled at Magnolia, her taking him by the arms in a hug when he came in with a handshake. Wait, what was that doctor man doing kissing her hand? What?</p><p>She shook her head, looking to the doorway to find the mayor one last time, sighing she retreated. The old man's busy as hell, she thought to herself, quilting herself for not being helpful enough. Then, not realizing she had gone over to the Whitechapel as well, sitting down and motioning her fingers that brought out the familiar brown drink before her in a finger-length cup.</p><p>"You ever drink something else?" A voice called out from her right.</p><p>Tom was looking at her sideways, the booth was empty for now, Magnolia and Piper in their own world while Arcade and Nate sat opposite each other beside them, talking, the four of them circling the small square table. She tipped her glass, waving it before him first, going over the bitter taste as she felt it burn down her gullet. Steadying herself she replied to his question with one of her own, "So where were you? People wanted to see their 'hero', you know"</p><p>Tom shook his head, a palm over his face and eyes "You wouldn't believe it", sighing slowly.</p><p>"Really?" Ren turned on her stool to him, left elbow resting on the dry wooden surface. Whitechapel was engrossed in a string tune that came from somewhere behind her now.</p><p>It really didn't take her long to find out. Oh yes, she motioned for another drink, taking it in full before getting that smell again once the burning subsided. A sweet, girly smell in that sweaty, lumbering specimen. She knew exactly where he had been up to then.</p><p>"Hmm. Well, you still have all your fingers so I guess you didn't disappoint our Cait that badly." her eyes going to his shaved head.</p><p>She looked at him again, in a new light. Yes, he would sleep around, wouldn't he? Seeing those wondering eyes that seemed so tired.</p><p>"You know her?" His surprised look only brought her momentary joy when he saw the genuineness in his voice.</p><p>"Used to run with him over there." nodding over to the vault man who appeared to be quietly speaking to Arcade for now. Ren looked back at Tom, finding him staring their way as well; she joined him in the process while gentle tunes rang out on vibrating strings in the quiet bar.</p><p>"Nate really can keep up with him, can't he?"</p><p>She eyed the man, distant eyes, what did he mean? She stood up, the bottle that had been just surrendered to her by the old bot in her palm.</p><p>"Do try to be careful around Cait, you might cut yourself." she turned from him, not really giving him any time to respond. Turning at once and moving quickly she made her way further inward to her right as she faced the exit now. MacCready should still be here, she idly told herself while walking away from the main room, not looking back at the man whose eyes she could behind her.</p><p>Piper</p><p>The mood had settled around the general scenery of calm in the late afternoon time, the setting sun casting a long shadow over the small town. Now deep in the bowels where gases hissed and strings echoed the halls of this abandoned subway station, they sat after what seemed like a lifetime past. The talks over by the green having been rough, heated discussion from both aisles, Ren had to restrain quite a few, she found herself remembering. She leaned back, eyes focusing as her ears never lost track of the delectable tones the guitar produced. The older man with a dash of that whitening beard was leaning in; eyes closed as his fingers came fast, came gently, and somehow always came all too knowing, always knowing what to play.</p><p>"So, Piper dear, what have you been up to, Arcade here seems positive you're about to put the Commonwealth on the map for good."</p><p>She eyed the spectacled man and back to her friend, only smiling, "Arcade here can be exaggerating, to say the least", she turned, taking a sip of the wine as she watched Nate, his eyes were distant, no doubt still mulling over Dez's words. Damn that woman, what was she thinking?</p><p>Arcade then started about her friend's music; the neatly-haired woman was fully engrossed as the taller man leaned in. They were busy in their quiet exchanges when Piper found her third drink emptying. Feeling left out, she turned towards Nate, his eyes still farther than she could make out.</p><p>"Hey", she said quietly, "You wanna get out?"</p><p>"Now?" he looked around, Piper already saw Ren move into the private rooms, probably looking for that dodgy friend of hers. Tom sat by his lonesome, somehow fitting in its view, his arms holding him up. Now that she looked a bit longer, was he dozing off?</p><p>She pushed Nate out the door from where they exited up, rising through steps to finally reach the surface. Here the sky was clear, the winds that blew; frigid and thin around which she squeezed into herself, arms crossed around her. Seeing a Nate who stood mostly unaffected, walking before her, hands in his jacket pocket. He motioned to her then, turning around once before going over to the storefronts. She followed slowly, seeing the warm radiance of the brightly lit stores that lined the western quarter road. Here she found Nate further within the yellow lights, busy as he was, smiling as Kleo came into view before her. They exchanged a few words; Kleo making her usual murderous remarks as they soon bid her farewell to come over a barrel fire by the side, a host of children surrounded an aging man wrapped in layers of leather and hide. He sat with a stick in his hands, eyes forever gone gray. Now, head tilted upward as the man vividly recounted the story of the Burned Man.</p><p>"And for a hundred days and a hundred nights he walked across the red canyon, a man with husking skin burnt long-off, a skin that he shed off like his past, rebirthing him into a new man, reborn as a New Canaanite."</p><p>"Hey, what's up?" Nate asked slowly as they stood beside the group surrounding the fire.</p><p>Piper looked up to find Nate looming over her, feeling the warmth from the barrel well enough she folded her arms then, the cold exiting her slowly. Teeth still too cold to talk her only shook her head, "It's nice here."</p><p>"Yeah, maybe but you're shaking." he took her by the shoulders, that familiar gesture, trying to push her forward when-</p><p>"No, I'm fine here. Hey, listen, about the memory treks. Seems like a dead end." not meeting his eyes.</p><p>The taller man beside her nodded, leaning against the old world bricks coated wet with moisture. Closing his eyes he spoke softly, "So, the tenements then, we can find something there for sure." he opened his eyes, looking at her, "You saw Nick come by, yet?"</p><p>Piper shook her head; the synth would be distinguishable even in the frigid cold, having already made it across the Glowing and back in nothing but a trench coat and a bit of sarcasm to boot. On her negative reply, he got up straight, eyes sharpening as he looked about, something caught his eye.</p><p>It was then she heard it, an explosion. The boom echoing out as along with it the host of children's screams filled her ears.</p><p>Tom</p><p>He got up with a start, turning at once to find an Arcade looking at him. Nodding they moved through the tiled steps, him in front taking two at a time to soon enough come with burning lungs out into the snowy surrounding above. The smell of burned nitrate filling his nostrils.</p><p>No.</p><p>He turned the corner, a simple block that rounded into the memory den, burning. He saw the two figures moving closer before him. The long leather coat around Piper fluttered as he went past, catching up with Nate who did not stop for a second.</p><p>"Survivors?" Tom found himself asked, the quiet man before him only spoke once catching a glance at him.</p><p>"Should be three regulars, customer's maybe" he grew quiet as Tom walked up beside him. The cryolator was missing, and so were the bombs from his pack. He looked at Nate, he was mumbling something, finishing his act he then turned to Tom. His hand retracting from his ear, inside he caught the sight of a darkened device.</p><p>"I'm calling in the cavalry." he moved past him and looked towards the western sky, "I suggest you pick one."</p><p>"Why would I-"</p><p>The footsteps came first, and then he heard the clinking of the guns held taught against flexed shoulders. Moving around Nate's back he saw more bodies pile into the empty courtyard. It was then Tom saw the burly man, tall with short-cropped hair and narrow eyes. He saw the huge man walk up to Nate, him holding his ground. The men around them came closer with guns primed, aimed quietly at the two of them in sizable groups. Tom's eyes however were on the tallest among the strangers, remembering the early morning thrashing he had received; the scene has grown unnaturally silent around him.</p><p>The bullet shower from a minigun came first, the men dove, all of them getting to their knees and some behind the rubble. Finding cover they started shooting, seeing Nate already move up. Mysha was out in his hands in an instant, Arcade nodded at him as he saw Piper moving sideways through the second building to their right. Arcade started with his pistol, plasma globules came in fast, frying against the stone as it fizzed past a few, dropping one and killing the man instantly. The body then of course rose as was getting customary by now. Tom moved in, getting close and finding a clean angle through the temple of the reanimated, throwing it off its feet up in the air as the head dislodged, letting the remainder of the body fall quietly.</p><p>The others came then.</p><p>Nate was disarming someone, getting close and pushing the automatic out of a hooded man's grasp. He reached for the gun and took controlled shots common to a soldier. The short spray of bullets finding the skulls and penetrating that synth region of the brain many times over. The man ducked behind cover then, the initial wave having been repelled, looking his way as he motioned towards the night sky.</p><p>In the clear black of night he made out a bright blemish coming towards him, Tom saw dots materialize in front of him as the long cylindrical tubes thrust into the ground with an earth-shaking force. Nate dashed towards one, pressing something to reveal a glow inside the sliding panels that sucked him in, soon enough the armor fusing over him as he emerged almost twice as tall.</p><p>"Keep them busy, I'll get the survivors.", the mechanized voice called out to him in the crescendo of bullet and screams, a stray one catching the thick metal front, only giving out a sonorous ring that lasts for a second as those servo gears started grinding him over into the fire, leaping through half-broken windows.</p><p>Tom turned around and looked Arcade's way, his shiny glasses primed on one of the cylinders.</p><p>"Hey, you with me?" Tom asked.</p><p>"Oh yeah, just wondering, maybe we could try those out?"</p><p>Tom stared for a moment then sighed, agreeing as he saw Arcade move in, the cylinder lay struck into the earth close by. As the blond-haired man moved in, the panel revealed a bright interior that lit the man up and comically surprised the doctor, moving in as he saw his friend be sucked in as well, soon to emerge in the new mechanized suit.</p><p>"This", he paused, looking up, "is awesome."</p><p>Tom only shrugged when bright-lit eyes were faced towards him, impervious to bullet-fire. The metallic voice then went out to the assailants, him dashing over and subduing everyone quickly enough. The tall man from the past day stood before Arcade, hidden behind the armor.</p><p>And then he pressed something, a feeling of nausea went past Tom's belly before he saw Arcade fall, the power armor lifelessly succumbing to the ground as more of the reanimated beasts from the non-descript corners emerged. The minigun shellfire now ending he realized, rising he, found the lone man with the device that had been activated, the stout cylinder on a trolley. Tom walked forward after standing up, seeing only him alive among the army of the dead. Walking up to his fallen friend he reached for the piece of armor, the fusion core wheel which unraveled the whole thing, his hand inches away when a sharp hissing sound came above him.</p><p>His eyes darted up instantly, from this distance he was alone with the small-eyed man, looking at him.</p><p>"Go back, wanderer. You complicate things here."</p><p>"Kind of in the job description, now, if you'll let me", he reached for the fusion core handle on the circular wheel, having about 20gs worth of force fall on your lower body would not be good for Arcade's overall blood flow, he had to act quickly.</p><p>He spoke then, "Fine, what do you want?"</p><p>"Leave, never come back. Next time we meet a wanderer the sky will have parted and a new dawn of man will have come. You wouldn't want to get caught in the crossfires", he moved past him, the reanimated all stood still, watching him, he saw. "Trust me, I know."</p><p>As the man walked away he called back to him once more, "Oh, and by the way, handy little things, those explosives of yours." the man moved away, the reanimated receding far into the darkened corners quietly, escaping vision and blending into the night to return the twilight scenery one of the angry flames consuming the old den.</p><p>Tom only stared for a second, finding a hurried Piper and Fahrenheit walk up to him; he crouched suddenly, remembering his friend. The core handle came off seconds later, the fumbling doctor gasping for the freeing air in the night light. Here he sat for a while, Tom noticing the long carbide rifle slung across Pieper's back, she was already up then, standing till and looking towards the fire and from its gushing laps emerged an engorged figure in black.</p><p>Nate</p><p>The room was the scenery of flame, the burning lumber now protruding off from the ground as his steps were treacherous in the hollow openings below the foundation. He moved close to the walls, finding his way to the rightmost room where a single pod had been kept for someone. He found the ghoul whimpering in the corner of the room that was coming apart, moving close and comforting Kent he extracted the location of the twins off him. Leaving him in the main hall as Nate started his trek downward, then a crash. A cloud of dust that had to recede after he saw the road forward too narrow for his suit. Coming off it at once he turned and walked through, feeling his bones press against hot bricks. The cool air of the underground area was a brief respite when he saw three wounded that had been dragged down below.</p><p>Dr. Amari stood by her sister who was clutching her belly. A line of blood pooling close by.</p><p>"Oh Nate, thank god you made it.", she came up to him, Nate not forgetting to notice the small flow of blood down her midsection. She was hurt, he reached for her, making her sit as she spoke, "Need to get the wounded to safety. Oh, Nate, you have to save the pods. The pods are everything, Nate."</p><p>He looked into her pleading eyes, eyes that then trailed for a second on those ginormous pods, each a ton heavy he reckoned. Getting them out would be impossible, and yet not saving them would mean the end of the Railroad as a necessity. Shaking his head he leaned over, picking the light doctor up and then calling out for the ghoul from above. Kent soon complied with Nate's directions; he stepped aside to allow Ada's expert motions and functions to clear out the rubble in front of him, the hollow armor moving out against the burning visage of the room they all found themselves in.</p><p>Nate nodded once towards the ghost in the shell, the empty metal husk nodding in reply as it dashed through the main door, breaking a way out for them. As the last of the customers from the burning memory den were escorted out, Nate's eye caught a glimpse at a dark coloring to the side of the room; reaching for it almost on reflex he felt the soft squishy residue of plastic explosives, the burnt smell of freshly cooked nitrate in the air, smothering him.</p><p>He moved out, the remains left behind in the fire. A familiar headache that was returning all too surely in the snow that had suddenly started falling.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>All I've to say about including Bob Dylan is hey, come on, we got Elvis and Sinatra, I think we can use one Minnesota boy's tunes to fight the good fight.</p><p>Also, I know at least a handful of you must be reading these mad etchings, I hope you let me know what you thought in the reviews, helps to keep perspective and focus on what's important. :) I hope you enjoy the story!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Episode 3: Toy Princess</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Episode 3: Toy Princess</strong>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Tom </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">13 years ago</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">2276, January</span>
</p><p>Tom was dreaming, yet somehow saw all of it again for the first time as well. He walked the long stretch of road across the western hill overlooking the rolling fields for miles around, a group of them made their way patiently over the hills from one stockade to the next, eyes wary of anything shifty in the horizon. From here the small shiny lights of Hopetown could be faintly seen far away, over the new fortifications that had been put up to stop the encroaching legion, a new outfit from the East or so Talen had told him. He pushed ahead, moving past a few rancher hands as he came up to Johnny who walked at the head of the group. The man was carrying a pack slug across a wooden pole, arching his hat sideways as he looked into the young boy's face, smiling down at him, or, he had been, he remembered.</p><p>For the boy could only remember a shadow of an image where there should have been a face, calling out from the depths in his past. He remembered screams, then flames around a dying woman in his arms. Her face was a shadow too, this one however switching rapidly between all those who had breathed their last in his grasp. The pale girl with green eyes and the bloodied locket, the dark pools of brown suddenly growing lifeless around a dying power armor, and finally, those blond curls streaked in black, eyes the deepest trenches of blue, lifeless as stone.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Cait </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Cait walked up to the stacking of something wrapped in a cool sheet of plastic, the material giving no purchase and felt taut over the cooler metal encased within. Moving beyond the containers and crates she then came upon the newly formed road of packed dirt that led directly into town. Walking past small hills out of boxes and tarp to arrive at the still empty-looking compound further north where she found the place to be the final resting place for most of what was being laboriously transferred over.</p><p><em>Where'd all this come from? </em>She wondered<em>, </em>looking about as she saw slender, quiet figures move with gusto and vigor as they worked under the weakened sun and appeared completely oblivious to her passing through. The sun was out of the still waters by then, currently appearing dim and high beside the tiny blimp across the bay. Her mindful gaze upon the scant people working and the strange-looking things they carried had kept her mind occupied long enough for her to stop abruptly as she found herself amongst a ticker, stranger-looking bustle around her now. A host of dark tents assembled in neat rows with roads interspersed evenly, choosing one she had started walking the road between two rows of temporary housing, soon finding the few refugees who stood about and stared at her unperturbed passing. Yes, these people were not like those before, she saw one gruff-looking fellow eyeing her, or parts of her at least, she found herself confirming exactly why she had bedded more synth than men in the last few months after the Passing.</p><p>Leaving the nearest tents had been a quiet stroll through a few busy souls among children scampering around. She had reached the main perimeter where the guards were still scant, most away from their usual posts as she soon saw them standing farther, away guarding the chokepoints nearer to Goodneighbor. Stepping across a host of neatly placed tents that seemed all too perfectly aligned against the jaggedness of the ruinous surroundings; she moved past a few rows of men and women in the weak sunlight of the rising day, souls that eagerly lined up for food handouts over by the mess tent behind which she passed unnoticed to arrive finally at a small hill over to one quiet corner, looking about her once more to make sure she had not been followed.</p><p>The hill met the wall halfway through in its height; the rest of the path was a tower above it, standing far and away as the tallest structure outside the town. The cool metal rods came to her hands familiarly as she hoisted herself up, getting to a wide surface about twenty feet above the ground. From here she could see the tents adorning almost half the road westward, the light yellow glare of the sun marked the slow rising and usual beginnings of life in the newly formed community far below her. She breathed in the air, a mix of something oily that haunted the morning sky, the smoke plums were a clear giveaway if the smell had been not. Taking a slim stick off her chest she lit it cupped against the cool morning air, taking in the view as an elbow supported her up.</p><p>"Cait?" a voice called out from below, looking over the railing she saw the dark-skinned fellow, thin in build with brown curls for hair, Talos. A lanky-looking figure who still wore those absolutely strange clothes like the rest of the quiet workers, in bright greens or yellows or blues dashed in white as they were so common still all around Goodneighbor. The old Institute cloths, she mused.</p><p>Reaching behind her pocket she found the objects that had been her excuses to come here this morning. Talos would have to do, she decided. He came up to her, still pleading behind those dark brown eyes and asking for a chance. Hair braided exotically and beard kept short on a not unpleasant face, she had to agree. Yes, he could be nice <em>sometimes</em> but for now, wasn't she supposed to be angry at him? He never did tell her what his name meant anyways.</p><p>"Caitlyn", he grabbed her shoulder and found him coming beside her, "What are you doing here?", the man paused, looking up at the regions beyond the wall from above where they stood, following Cait's eyes. A group had started to gather over the main yard, someone was taking it all in far in the distance "Did you hear what happened yesterday?" From here upon the tower she could see the gathering at the center clearly; the Aussultron lady was watching closely, those sensors twisting at the ready as a dangerous body leaned in to listen. Her eyes soon found him among the burgeoning crowd; Nate looked well enough she supposed; if a bit tense. Not like when they were having fun though, oh no. She stretched, remembering with a smile the feverous heat she had been lost in as frigid metal gripped clothed palms in the cool breeze. Yeah, that man needed to relax, if even for a little bit. Her smile died almost instantly when she spotted the conniving woman hounding that poor man's shadow, those long coat lapels pulled against her hips, no doubt seeking eyes.</p><p>
  <em>That shifty bitch, I'll show her.</em>
</p><p>"It's a fucking tragedy", she sighed flakily, still murderously eyeing the pairing far below. Grabbing him by a shoulder as she turned and leaned in close, raising the tags before between them; two punched in pieces of flat metal around the beaded chain, his questioning gaze at her unsure.</p><p>"Take this to Hancock. Lethem knows there's a traitor holding hands and mopping with them right now." she turned from him without a word, already onto the next issue of the day. Now, where <em>had</em> that man gone off to? She remembered him, his touch and technique, the unquenchable thirst in them for each other; how eager he had been, and how good she had felt in a very, very long time. Smiling to herself she halfway slid down the ladder, soon to find a Talos calling out from above.</p><p>"Hey! Where will you go?"</p><p>"I need a drink!", then more quietly when she saw a familiar man standing by, "On your tab, soldier," she said, poking Oren. the grizzled-looking veteran who stood guard like a stone on a beach.</p><p>"Keep dreaming, Cait" the visor helmet man chucked and then sighed, coming back his solemn pose.</p><p>She quietly skipped her way past the low rising road to find the booth there, twisting over the lone guard who stood watch by the gates of the Goodneighbor. She fleeced something off him with eyes that held the armed man down. Her eyes were only starting to reach into her hands to gaze at her prize, walking past the security check into the quiet courtyard when a voice called out to her.</p><p>"Cait?" <em>Nate</em>, his voice. She turned instantly and felt her knees trembling if for a moment, "What are you doing here?", he asked slowly, he was wearing the usual leathers and hide, kind of simple if she were being honest. That vault suit had fit him <em>so</em> well, shame. She then saw Piper walk up behind him, arms folded and frowning her way. She tried to avoid those glaring eyes but when Nate brought Piper into the fold, her silence had been enough to remind Cait of how things still stood between them. A scene grew around them then as the familiar faces among the regulars looked her way, recognized and gathered, no doubt eager to catch sight of the cage fighter. She <em>had</em> beaten the Lion, after all. Most people knew already that, the matter an open secret in the morning chatter of the streets. As the slowly exiting crowd finally cleared after Cait indulged them for a while, she saw Nate looking supportively her way, the evil woman beside him only frowning as Hancock came up to her, eyes grim as he took her aside suddenly.</p><p>"What is this shit?" he raised his hand, the tag had the name 'Thomas Graham' pushed in, a serial number below and along with it was another tag. She remembered having Whisper go over his things, where had that other one come from? The name was a long one, she only caught 'Veronica' and that was it, "Where did you get this?", Hancock asked, Nate slowly making his way towards them, no one following him from behind.</p><p>"I beat him, didn't I? So, the winner gets to keep the stuff". Nate came up quickly, eyes already having found the token slung across the mayor's palm. He was quiet then, in the morning breeze that left the three there standing unassuming to the lessening crowd of people around. Piper stood a bit far away, talking fiercely with another man, tall this one was, with glasses and white hair. A doctor's coat over those broad shoulders, a stranger?</p><p>"It's his past, let it go. What matters is now." he paused, eying them both, "I killed people over oil, you killed people because you were high and you, you still kill because you can." Cait only shrugged, looking anywhere but Nate's way right then, her mind finding Tom, she <em>had</em> let him live, hadn't she? Why did he <em>always</em> have to be like that? She sighed, rolling her eyes as she tried something on him. Her gaze held him down as her hand tried coiled around his.</p><p>"Cait, listen…" he began.</p><p>"No, you listen. This man is dangerous Nate, you mustn't mess around with stuff ya barely understand." she took the dog tag off the old ghoul's hand, looking back angrily at the man she had once decided to give her life to.</p><p>
  <em>Not gonna lose you again, luv'</em>
</p><p>"Hancock, what do the Brotherhood of Steel do with ghouls like you?" she asked casually, not looking the old ghoul's way.</p><p>"Shot on sight, and it ain't pretty." The mayor of Diamond City sighed as he straightened up, looking about as he found himself, patting Nate on the arm he nodded to Cait and was turning to leave before he spoke again, "So, I guess I'll leave you two lovebirds to it then. I have a city or two to run.", the crimson cloak fluttering behind him as the ghoul walked over to a few men who waited for him, soon falling behind his step out the gates.</p><p>Nate tried to move away from her but she held him strong, coming close, "So, how've ya been?" she asked coyly.</p><p>Nate was removing her arm off him when she came much closer, a nail scratching over the woven fabric as her other fingers revealed a chip, leaning in; she showed three inches of the wide object, shining bright silver in the morning light, its smooth surface almost reflecting her green eyes at him. He paused, looking closely at it now. Her mind going back to the golden compass, opening it had not given her much, then her hairpins had come in handy, the gambling chip was cool to her touch, and felt solid.</p><p>"Now, look what I found," she said, acting vainly.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Tom </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>In the low breeze of the rising morning sun where the crowds would not be thick for quite a while; the same song by that lady down in the station rang out on the radio, probably heard by only him this far out. Tom was leaning against a wooden post, watching the light commotion coming off before the main building here in Goodneighbor, no doubt celebrating his defeat, he grinned inward, and it had <em>hardly</em> been a fair fight. More of his mind going to the events of the day after the fight, his time with <em>her</em>. Shaking his head as he turned his head, bringing his mind back to retracing the words Kleo was speaking to him. She seemed eager, the old automated businesswoman wanting to sell him stuff in the quiet corner they were in.</p><p>"Anything you need to cut, kill, maim or burn. Of course, I have a few special items outback for an artist, if you'd indulge.", the twirling Aussultron bot seemed apprehensive, Tom nodded, smiling as he crossed over the counter and followed her to the other room.</p><p>Here above a clean white cloth on a flat table was a bolt action rifle, appearing dark and smooth. A desirable gleam against the single filament bulb above them lighting the room. The optics were done in right, he saw as he turned a screw and found the lines to all add up. Picking it up he cocked the mechanism, measuring the stock to his arm and then feeling the feedback of the bolt, trying to familiarize himself with it. The cartridges were nearby, equally dark, and painted the dark-tinted plastic reflected neatly lined bullets. No original .50 cal stock bolts here, of course, only modified chambers that could actually house what ammunition primarily had. One was lucky enough to find anything endemic above 5.56 starting east beyond the roads to Kansas. Well, it would have to do, he told himself.</p><p>"Does it come with attachments?" he asked, looking at Kleo who quietly minded his actions.</p><p>The vicious robot only twirled her sensors light even faster, moving quickly to another side of the room where a posh-looking case lay opened. Reaching the table on which it was placed, Tom saw the contents within seeming delicate almost. Here the red velvet-lined instruments of murder looked austere, pure in the delectable limelight of the self-invited fluorescence bordering the casing. High-grade staff, Tom whistled, wondering what joint pumped these beauties out. If Tom had learned anything over the years; it was that a lot of unassuming places produced highly improbably artifacts even still centuries after the bombs.</p><p>He reached for one, Kleo instantly restoring him to a pause with her mechanical cry.</p><p>"No clumsy hands, allow me.", she said smoothly thereafter, Tom only nodded, relieving his hand.</p><p>The whole ordeal took about half an hour more, him reading over the billing one last time while she set the rifle apart, placed the attachments, and packed a hefty number of cartridges. He eyed the packing, the rifle he then slung behind him, the other items coming readily into his belt soon after. He had handed over the last of those legion coins, along with a few hefty rolls of pressed-in caps shaped like cylinders. That left the old caps pouch distinctly empty, he realized while staring at that emptying well. Oh, how poor he truly had become over the years.</p><p>Nodding to Kleo once more he moved past the storefront, reaching across to the main path out through there, the usual day stragglers huddled around the barrel fires at his passing gaze. Alleys inward where men talked amongst themselves, eying him as he moved past, not looking twice. As he made his way along the northern road, he was led to more winding paths before him, leaving them behind he then turned towards the main courtyard, walking for a few more minutes before finding the old man from the bar last night leaning in on a chair. He seemed to be taking in the sun, his hat over his face; the man dozed across the chair with not a care in the world.</p><p>As it so happened; the fortunes of the day were to bear fruit for the passersby around him when suddenly the man decided to raise, the group of people around Tom all perked up at the lazy man's pronounced change of disposition. He rose against hands that pressed down on popping knees, reaching and rising as he then turned around to find his instrument. Tom saw the odd-looking thing behind the chair, placed carefully inside the hardbound casing. The clips came off and revealed the object of everyone's wonder, a light gasp came up as a few people started clapping around him, Tom noticed young children among grown men who all looked onward, entranced by what sat before them then.</p><p>The old man began by tapping his feet, the arms coming around the strings to hold and pluck. He raised his head once, the hat now over him as a thin cord tied itself over his chin, "It's a fine day." a deep, booming voice looked up and smiled into the sky, speaking mostly to himself before the crowd. He brought up his arms, one of his hands went to find a glass placed on the floor, bringing it over his ring finger as the tunes rang out into the air, the slow rhythm rising.</p><p>In the slow hums of the rhythmic tone, Tom could hear the haunting melodies created by the glass as it made contact with the metallic vibrating strings. The tone was one of melancholy, rising and crescendo many times in the interval between which all eyes were glued on the old man.</p><p>His fingers playing with those strings effortlessly as he navigated a tune through singular tones over a booming hum. Then he stopped, looking his way as the tunes became murmurs, a look of familiarity across his face.</p><p>"Hello there, outlander."</p><p>Tom looked around, finding everyone else to have shied away, the old man gave a white grin as he motioned towards the chair beside him, and Tom nodded and came, sitting beside the aging man.</p><p>"Thomas Graham, as I live and breathe", the man cracked up as he came close, continuing the rhythms of his slowing tunes. The man looked at him, red veins around dark brown moons, a span of winkles ran across that split face, "So, what brings you here, Courier?" the deep voice asked.</p><p>"You know who I am?" Tom was alarmed, and then at once caught. The man did not meet his gaze for the moment, eyes cast over the strings that continued their vibrations. "Hey, I'm talking to you," Tom called out.</p><p>"Didn't answer my question, boy.", the old man replied, a glee in his voice, "Thought Joshua taught you better", clicking his tongue, the old man looked up, "But 'Course, you don't remember your old man, do ya?"</p><p>Tom could only shake his head, having no words to give as he sat there stunned. Few knew of the secret of the lost Canaanite, not even the Burned Man himself, as he had personally found out soon enough in those caves back in the Canyon. The man was looking up at him now, eyes reading into his soul, the grinning face now only a weak smile mostly to himself.</p><p>"You know Joshua?" Tom found himself asking, more calmly this time.</p><p>"Seen him a long time ago, kid. Back when you were yay high, yes sir. Now, of course, I could say you're a spitting image of the old dog himself but you wouldn't believe it, would ya?" the old man asked him slowly, eyes probing, "You do know what happened to him, right?"</p><p>Tom could only nod, the Burned Man still lived, shepherding the New Canaanites throughout the great canyons out west, he remembered the spiritual man, speaking of God and duty, he remembered those eyes, went back and found them around in his memories past, somewhere so deep he had forgotten it till then. He came out, his father had been dead before he had set foot in the Mojave, and he found himself explaining. And yet he residually remembered the farm; he was back in an old dusty ranch somewhere west of California, in the sunken valley where brahmin grazed over rolling hills here was only he and a lone woman who labored beneath the unending sun, he saw blond hair streaked in black. Smiles and the sun in his earliest thoughts.</p><p>"How poetic. The son ends what the father began." he hummed a tune, a song rising out of the vocals that brought the crowd back. For a few minutes then Tom heard an alien kind of music, the somber vocals mixing in with the low growls of the thicker strings as the lighter notes created the spectrum of contrast in between.</p><p>"You here for a job?" the man asked once the crowd had cleared; now the central courtyard was empty but for the few children who ran about. Against the declining sun to their backs they shared a drink then, the old man had brought out a metallic flask, joking how much sand singing deposited into his throat, and gave Tom a swig of the stuff. He took it, a vaporous mixture to be sure, he bit through the stringing and nodded. The old man took it back quietly and then they were both silent for a moment. When Tom replied in only a negative, telling him of his simple designs of seeing the country the man looked at him, nodding once before taking a swig.</p><p>After some more time had passed, a cigarette soon emerged before those sausage fingers as he looked Tom's way, him lighting it up for the older man. Nodding, the man then reclined back, a moment or two passed before he decided to speak again with eyes closed, "Name's Three Dog, kid. From the Capital Wasteland, betcha' know the place."</p><p>Tom only nodded, having no recollection of those words until his mind brought up Arcade and the outfit of his past. The man took another drag as his eyes fell on Tom again, this time he went on more on his own, "Knew someone like you once, tough girl out from a vault. Now that I think about it, kind of like our Nate here." he opened one eye and looked sideways, a lone man was walking towards them, a hurried gait that followed Nate as he appeared before them. Tom stood up, gesturing to the new arrival as the man came up close and brought out his chains.</p><p>He had created scenarios for this, had planned on what to say, what lies to pull into the fold. The secret of the hidden sanctuary under the valley would never come out, he had promised that.</p><p>"You dropped these", resuming more quietly then, "don't go showing them around now, people don't take kindly to Brotherhood around these parts, I'm sure you understand why" Tom took the tags quickly, there were two there he saw. He forced it down his pockets in an instant, not having to look.</p><p>
  <em>Not now.</em>
</p><p>He nodded abruptly then as he found Nate looking the old man's way, "Hey Ronny, whatcha doing up here?"</p><p>"Oh, just catching the sun, Nate. Don't you mind old me, this man here though? you keep an eye on him for all of us."</p><p>Tom frowned the old man's way, looking back at a shrugging Nate.</p><p>The shadow cast lower here over the foot roads past the taller buildings, bringing much-needed respite in the midday heat, Nate led him through the main courtyard out to the rail building, and here they were stepping down the cool interiors laced in tiles. He followed the man wordless, mind still clouded over the words the old man had spoken, wondering on that slow drawl the man had, trying to place it in his mind somewhere in the past. Had he told Nate? Did they know about Joshua? Stepping into the Third Rail once again brought a different view this time around. The square tables to the side where the large pipes coiled into the surface; brick-like audio systems had been placed, wired up to the rail near the small stand where the woman was currently missing from, and around all those things were people packed to the brim, the room a frenetic murmur that surrounded them.</p><p>Nate leaned him over, cutting a path through the strangers to find the floating butler bot with the foreign accent by the counter. Taking a drink they both eased into their sits, reminding himself of his surroundings. Finally, the Courier and Sole Survivor had made for an awkward couple for far too long as they stopped sitting rather exposed among the bustling crowds that seemed to mind their every move, hearing Nate sigh he looked at the older man's way. He was rising, the bottle in his hand as he gripped it with his fingers as he nodded off a few bodies out of their way, now as they made their way towards the private rooms to their right.</p><p>The empty lounges were silent here, a small bump came from the door that soon opened to reveal the Captain, along with her was a thin, roguish fellow, pulling his long rifle close to him while he tipped his hat towards the vault dweller.</p><p>"MacCready", Nate only said as the flame-haired woman followed after him, looking only once at Tom during the whole ordeal that left them alone once again in the room.</p><p>They both reclined opposite each other, weapons and instruments of death coming off as each reclined back, the bottle pouring over a drink for Tom and refilling the old man's glass. The younger man fielding the flip light that lit a cigarette for them both.</p><p>He saw Nate take a lazy drag over the rims of his glass, low and long as he leaned back, arms against the armrest where he lounged.</p><p>"So, my chains. Where did you-" Tom was asking when he was cut off.</p><p>"Cait. She gave them to Hancock, you should be careful Tom, or she'll rob you blind." Nate said glibly, taking in drag as Tom nodded and reached behind his coat, the pocket held the heavy compass when-</p><p>Wait, he grabbed it tightly, raising it a bit, it was lighter than he knew it to be. Eyes widening in a panic he tried to calm himself, bringing it out and reaching for the inner screws, seeing signs of forced entry. He sighed then as well, taking the bottle into his hand and looking one time over a tired, old Nate. He poured a hearty amount for himself, taking the glass, looking at it once before making it disappear behind his tilted head. Leaning back, the cigarette between his lips, a light trail of grey over a face that was frowning, eyes closed as he drifted.</p><p>He remembered the pile, the clothes and guns had been strewn about, he remembered how undisturbed the coat had been, remembered the girl beside it, looking up at him. She had white hair then, shiny and almost plastic-like in its unnaturally beautiful curls. The small child had been living in squalor, soon remembering the hooded figure that had so handy taken him down. Just who <em>was</em> this kid?</p><p>"Hey", Nate had risen from his slumber by then, moving close as a hand came upon the table between them. He placed something and pushed it his way, his hand soon coming off to reveal the chip. A slivery finish on the platinum glare off the alien memory device, he reached forward, taking it at once and feeling the fool.</p><p><em>A fake, </em>his eyes met his, <em>Is he testing me?</em></p><p>He looked up at the man; found a searching gaze pointed at him, "Just a lucky charm. It's a long story, I'll tell you someday." Tom calmed somewhat as he replied, waiting for more from the man before him.</p><p>"Oh yeah?", he took a drag, killing the residual embers on the ashtray, "You mind telling me how you ended up with legion coins, the brotherhood of steel dog-tags, and an NCR medal inside your boot while you're at it?" he drank from the glass, chuckling then, "Sounds like quite the story."</p><p>Tom only smiled, remembering the black checkered suit that one night in the old cemetery, the restless khans beside that man and Gloria who had been pointed at his head. He came back, it really did seem Cait had been acting alone, but where had the fake come from? More time passed as they both lounged; slowly the hum of the amplified strings came from the outer room, confirming the old man's arrival into the old station bar.</p><p>"Piper told me about the pods that they would be useless anyway, for the reanimated I mean", Nate spoke up, Tom shrugging as he realized what the man spoke of and soon added his findings as Arcade had told him, needing a live, complicit synth from their elusive cause. Nate leaned in, agreeing as then they conversed further about the tenements out in old Boston, deciding to go there at once, at first light they both agreed. Then their talks went to more treacherous parts, Nate lightly probing the subject of the stolen military-grade plastic explosives compounds that had gone off in the den, his stuff. Nate had decided to keep it a secret from even Hancock but the questioning he had received later on might have been enough to make it up to him. All Tom could tell him was that it had to have been swiped somewhere between Jeweltown and the city, much easier than finessing it off while Diamond City's finest stood to watch over his and Arcade's stuff currently still.</p><p>Nate asked again then, retreading the old questions so familiar to him by now; six-four maybe, short-cropped hair and face almost simple if a bit fraying. The large man wore a rod-lined jacket sewn in with patches of furs, common to the outfit the man asking the questions should be well familiar with and he found himself thinking.</p><p>"Don't you already know this man?" Tom asked, not for the first time either.</p><p>Nate only shook his head, offering what little he could about the rogue agent from his own secret sources, gone missing for decades to only finally return now for some reason, or so it was. He still held the fake chip in his hand, Tom's eyes sometimes going over it seldom and finding it lighter than he knew it to be. He turned it around and gazed at its subtle finish below the table once Nate had gone quiet again, seeing the small micron smudge of paint overlapping ever so slightly. Tom's mind wandered then, was the man protecting him? The attack on the den having left the residents grim but no more suspicious of him after the fact, "You didn't tell Hancock about explosives, did you?" At finding a quiet Nate he went on, "And this guy, do you even have a name for the guy? You must have records."</p><p>"The mayor's already got his hands full, no point making him jump at shadows on his own back." Tom slowly nodded, wondering then about Elizabeth and the woman over the green, soon realizing that their foe was more cunning than anyone had given it credit for yet. Still, Tom looked at the man take a sip, no, no point telling him about Ren, deciding to play this one close to the chest. The man before he went on then, "We have a code name for someone of that description, I think", he was silent, a familiar expression of a man lost in his own thoughts.</p><p>Tom waited expectedly for a moment before he saw the man take a deep gulp, eyes savoring the drink. Eyes opening and surprised that Tom expected an answer, he went on awkwardly" Oh, um, it's complicated. He was an Institute agent, they took down the old HQ in sixty-six, there're almost no records from that time, except, well except a name, Apollo." For a time they went to their drinks for company, Tom easing himself as he mulled over the new name. It had been a hectic moment since yesterday, the raging fire after the explosion, soon to be followed the radical synths with their leader in rising twilight, leaving the scenery quite dark against the building pyre, Tom finally felt like he had some time to think.</p><p>Something wasn't right as he processed all of what Nate had said, "Institute using humans?" Tom asked, till now having considered the older synths to be perfect slaves and the new ones out to obedient killers.</p><p>"It's not that uncommon", the man went in a low tone not looking his way, Tom noticing how he tightened and relaxed his hand unknowingly, taking a sip Tom tried to remember the man.</p><p>"He'd be too old" Tom argued, trying to remember tangentially the whole Railroad issue Arcade kept going on about; no pods meant no new docile synths to pump out, Tom hadn't cared much for what doctor had gone on about then; the drug that crazy woman had given her <em>after</em> the tranqs had melted his mind for hours after he had left the arena about thirty pounds lighter. Tom reached for his head, a novel headache was beginning to form somewhere deep within, finding the glass before him he took a gulp, mimicking Nate at this point.</p><p>"The Institute could do things, you know." he went on, somewhat sounding tired and wistful. The burning den had been an issue demanding enough that the dawning sun had risen before their surprised, bleary eyes the following day. Tom had gotten a couple of hours in but judging by how Nate looked right now he wasn't sure the man even slept at all. The tired man resumed, "Hit harder, fight longer, that sort of thing" he slowed, "kinda like something you have too." he eyed his arm under layers of leather and fabric.</p><p><em>So he knows</em>, the torn sleeves from the first reanimated attack, of course.</p><p>Changing the subject promptly, "Hey, this Cait", Tom asked slowly, "where is she right now?"</p><p>Nate wondered for a moment then answered in the negative as he massaged the bridge of his nose, "She's planning something, obviously." he rose, sighing as he went over to the cabinet by the side, finding something within. Tom tried to remember the last time he had seen the woman, which had been early into the day, now in the low reaches of noon she could be anywhere.</p><p>While his thoughts lay clouded the man before he had stood up, moved, and now stood beside the locker pried open. Nate reached in and brought out old Bozar from within, the 5.56 full-automatic appeared well proportioned against the wide man, he brought out the front handle first as he tucked the rest of the mass behind his elbow, adjusting the optics on the head with a few turns of his wrist. Then got a feel for the feedback from the mechanisms that released the half-empty cartridge, containing bullets he had hammered together out of parts from two highways back. The gun was catching dust in these peaceful parts, Tom mused.</p><p>"Never seen anything like this, not even in the army", the man said quietly, examining the gun like a piece of fine pottery, Nate then remembered something, looking his way at once, "Sorry about the other one, Cait said that one's gone.", Tom only shrugged, waving his hand dismissively at him. The Anti-Material Rifle, there was nothing too special about them, if only for those. 50 cal casings that were worth their weight in gold out west from what he could remember.</p><p>He then saw Nate wield it close to the light, reading something on the periphery of the metal exterior. Soon after attaching a new magazine and eying the insignia upon the left side of the barrel, that was the only true signature upon the unique creation.</p><p>"GRA" Nate spoke up, looking at him then, cocking an eyebrow.</p><p>"Gun Runners Arsenal, they supply most of the west, since 2155 if you believe the company logo", Nate only whistled, hoisting the rifle by the strap and balancing it on its butt as he held the barrel to him, "Must've cost you a pretty penny," he said.</p><p>"Don't doubt it, sold off an entire mafia business to the GRA as a favor, Bozar here was the trade-in" Tom remembered the old times; the rifle had been through a lot. Over the canyon, and across the river, from Hoover Dam to Arizona and all in between. He stopped before he remembered her along with it.</p><p>"Keep it," Tom spoke.</p><p>"Are you serious? This is probably the most expensive piece of hardware in the Commonwealth", Nate replied, half-amused, "Kleo would be at my throat if she saw me with this." Tom only smiled, remembering the fidgety robot woman, he raised his arms, getting up and leaning against the table.</p><p>"Wearing it like that?" Tom began, folding his arms, "out there?" Better you keep it someplace close, save it for a rainy day."</p><p>Nate was quiet, the low tunes from the main hall outside were gone now, and the man had finished one of his numbers, the automated singles coming in loud on the jukebox after. Nate only shrugged, pulling the gun up and finding the safety on it, the cartridge came off next then the optics were lidding up as he spoke. "Well, a lot of rainy days up ahead from what I can see.", the gun made that familiar click and back, primed as the automated bullet line was set into place.</p><p>Tom turned his head, finding the approaching steps of a long-legged stride, soon the doctor came into the room, dressed in his usual whites and looking concerned. Meeting them both prompted him to motion. Tom met his gaze; the older man seemed tired, no doubt busy in the medical tents outside. Those eyes flashed the word hungry to him.</p><p>In the cool hallways moving out The third Rail they were passing along the old interstate transit building, the plaque put up here that notified him of its origin, the reception although had been refurbished into housing options for the wealthy travelers common to pass by across the region, Arcade was explaining how Curie amazingly Curie had performed, going over her technique and grit. Even Tom was surprised; it was rare that Arcade could be outmatched in the Hippocratic ways out in the wastes. Still, there was more relief than anything on the thoroughly tired doctor's face; it would seem both sisters from the den would make it, even the few patrons that had been trapped during the attack.</p><p>Moving past the central zone he and Arcade found themselves at the door leading out when a voice called out his name, rather loudly. Upon turning saw Cait there, she was wearing her usual sleeveless top, wrists, and fingers wrapped as usual in white sheets, the reddish dress that came down to her hips, tight leather trousers hugging her form from there below. The boots stepped lightly, one foot before the other as she made her way towards the two of them.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Cait </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>The man with the broad shoulders was exiting the reception room when she caught up with those two, her eyes fixed on the white-haired doctor who was turning at her calling voice. The blond man was out of her radar, for now, coming at once with a raised heartbeat she started speaking abruptly, "You're a doctor, aren't ya?"</p><p>The man only nodded, trying to reach for her, her defensive reflexes almost kicking in. She stowed them and looked below, the dried blood of the dying girl on her, she shook her head. "Come on then, need ya to stitch someone up", eyeing Tom once. She was surprised, the man only looked concerned.</p><p>They walked across the outer gates from Goodneighbor proper, stepping through the small lined tents to go west and find the large pole raised tent at the lower base of the block. Here she flapped past them to enter the tent, finding Whisper lying on the bed, eyes closed and two masked men fussing over the unnatural redness that ran out over her torso. She didn't move, couldn't, paralyzed by the events of the day that brought her to a dying Whisper. She saw the doctor move forward, finding his small dark case from somewhere that he quickly unzipped to reveal instruments fine and clean. The doctor worked quietly, having told off the other two by now as the man concentrated on what laid before him. The wound once cleaned showed the deep incisions of some kind of teeth. Marks speaking of the frantic tear that had been left behind. The doctor was working with both hands now, already having administered some form of chemical upstream the blood, then bringing the needle and a thickly bound coil of thread. All this while she suddenly realized those eyes were looking at him, worried. She saw those lips move before understanding the concerned doctor's momentary pause while he had spoken to her.</p><p>The process took long enough for the sun to set completely, now the tent was empty in its main chambers, all attendants having already left, Whisper's being the only serious case being worked on. The doctor was still alone in the room with her and had asked her to move out, too tired to even consider a protest at those words. So she had complied, Tom quietly at her step as well. She turned, finding herself alone in the dark tent interior with her thoughts where the bulbs had been turned off to conserve energy. Exiting the tent she almost bumped into Tom, the tall figure came up straight as he looked at her, offering what seemed to be beer.</p><p>"So, they were the monsters from the city then.", Tom said impatiently, he had stood up for some reason, he seemed agitated, she thought dimly at the back of her mind. Cait having recounted her side of the tale while sitting still, resting. The beings that had receded into the walls and cavernous hollow ruins of Boston had come out in bright daylight, as she was describing. In the city, Nate had sent patrols out to the closest blocks but there were not enough men or guns of anything more than that. "Where exactly?" Tom asked from behind her, he seemed fidgety,</p><p>She told him as best as she could; somewhere south where Whisper had followed a sound like the wind like she always did. The whole ordeal after those screams had come had left her missing much, the whole scenery became one as they shuffled and clawed across buildings like demons from some hellish nightmare. In the empty road where she had been in, how trapped and surrounded. Then finally remembering the dive those animals had taken, coming crashing onto the hard road with reckless abandon, approaching her with not a pause after.</p><p>"So how did you make it out?" Tom asked again, quietly this time when he found out she was too tired to be roused at the moment. She only remembered those screams, her legs, and her lungs, all burning and breathless, the bleeding girl strapped behind her, she fell back off those memories at once, unable to summon the strength to go on.</p><p>They were seated in the railing above the tower, here outside the air was cool and refreshing, Cait all the while quiet, tired in the pure exertion of the day that had gone by her. Finally, she could feel the sweat dry off from her chest and back, the beaded forehead clearing as a cool sandiness was left behind on her skin, making her feel waxed. They had talked a bit more, later on, finding scant words to bandy while worry hung heavy over her head, she was bemused somewhat, finding a gentler shell than the one she had known, those dark eyes she found herself getting lost in. Holding <em>her</em> down this time.</p><p>Finally, with eyes that were drifting off into the horizon, feet dangling over the dizzying height below; she fell asleep, leaning in on him, then gently and all at once falling for the man as darkness brought peace in his arms.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Arcade </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>Inside the emergency theatre of the makeshift hospital; the tired doctor leaned back against the wooden cabinet, wiping sweat off the clear portion of his gloved hand. Then soon rose and made his way to the washbasin, permanently getting rid of those blood-ridden plastics. Disposing of them he then turned around, the frail girl with a shaved head had a sheet drawn over her, her entire lower left leg had been removed, a harrowing process no doubt. Him having quietly preserved off the body part with hope, doing his best to stitch off what had remained. The process left him hollow somehow, feeling lost. He had failed this one; another lost the wasteland as it were. He massaged his forehead, remembering the slight adjustments in those stitching he had made at the end, keeping mind for future prosthetics operations.</p><p>He tried to remember if the Commonwealth had had any leading medical research facilities here back in the day, finding none in his mind at the moment he stood up, coming over to the girl. Cold, yet her skin was still beading sweat profusely, Arcade frowned, and gently opening her eyes and checking her blood veins, then came the pulse measure which appeared to be normal. The antibiotics would have kicked in by now, the temperature probably subsiding shortly as Arcade eased back, leaning against the same cabinet again, and assessing his hours-long work. Her chest rose and fell slowly against the dull tent flaps that swayed outward, he reached into his pockets, lighting a cigarette as he was bringing back his tools home, they had all played their parts well, his work was done here. His mind then drifted back to older problems, problems that needed to be solved, and fast. He remembered the synth components that had been housed in Hancock's quarters, the weapons all under inspection by the strange Aussultron, probing more he then found the problem of the pods. Without them, he knew there were dark days ahead for the Commonwealth.</p><p>Arcade's thoughts were cut short when Curie walked in, carrying sheets and water that she quickly delivered over to the bed, coming to the foot of the bed to find the clipboard. She came to him with it, somewhat surprised as she waved it up at him.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"A man of tradition, I see Monsieur Gannon." she chirped, trying to brighten him up. He only sighed in a grin as they both settled down while the young woman went over the readings. He had found her standing at the door maybe an hour or so ago wanting to help, her actions limited only by the fact that the majority of the operation had been completed by then. Soon enough she spoke up again, asking questions regarding all that had transpired before her arrival. It was after that what she said that brought his full attention to her.</p><p>"Monsieur Gannon, I-", she paused, looking unsure, Arcade had turned towards her fully now, he could see the weariness that gripped her eyes. She had been the lone doctor herein Goodneighbor after the attack, he had helped all he could be he was no match for a professional like her.", it's about Dr. Amari, she, her readings are perilous, doctor. You must come and see." her voice was dark, in the quiet of the room and the rustling outside he took in her words and took in its gravity, nodding as he finished packing up his items.</p><p>As he had walked over to the cabinets opposite the bed to collect the last of his possessions, he saw the tent flaps sway upward, and in walked Tom. Stepping quietly into the bulb-lit room as he moved to the girl and then towards him, coming close so that the doctor did not have to raise his voice.</p><p>"She'll live?" the man asked quietly.</p><p>Arcade nodded not looking up, then found the man fingering a vial that had been placed about, watching it spin around his fingers he answered the man, telling him of what he could save and what he had had to remove. Grimly the man nodded, instantly arriving at the same prosthetic ideas as him. Asking what Arcade had already searched for in his head and found wanting, shaking his head he then turned around, the cigarette on his lip came off into his fingers as he turned to look at Tom, the man was entertaining something between his fingers, watching closely he saw the Lucky 38 platinum chip, shocked for a second and then looking up at him suddenly.</p><p>"Cait took it off me, you should be careful." Tom eyed the chip for a bit more. "It's a fake". He tossed it in the air and let it fall on his palm, then placing it on the table counter, then meeting his eyes.</p><p><em>Great, another problem</em>, Arcade wearily thought.</p><p>Curie was unnaturally quiet, staring Tom's way as she took in the exchange, getting a look at the chip, eyes that seemed glued if he were being honest. Then she suddenly spoke up, finding herself.</p><p>"Monsieur Tom, if I may?", she brought out her arms towards Tom's, the pipboy fixed onto skin, the leather cut out that let it through. She placed her arms upon the skin-fused device and connected the plug wire to her own. He hadn't seen that before and guessing from Tom's expression he was sure the surprised man hadn't seen it either. He caught the small clasp below the device on her underarm in passing, the device that she had slipped onto linen sleeves that came gracefully down both hands, no cutouts required.</p><p>What came next was dozy, if everything prior hadn't been bad enough.</p><p>"These blood readings, they are concerning, doctor. I predict leukemia with 97 percent probability, the doses she had been taking over the years had not been adjusted", her eyes were hurt, she knew the older woman, he then realized; remembering all her exciting recounting about the pods and the purpose of the den and her place in the cycle around it all.</p><p><em>She gave you life,</em> Arcade realized.</p><p>He nodded then went on "And the biopsy?"</p><p>"I've set the marrow sample cultures. They should tell us in a few hours." her visage was grim, eyes close to watering he saw, to already almost know with absolute certainty the outcome of those results, that had to be the worst. Yet a human heart hoped, Tom mused.</p><p>"An auto doc", Tom spoke up, the plug was now off, he motioned towards his pipboy screen going over the Malden area, he spoke then, "Last ever recordings in these regions show a hospital in this general area", he zoomed into the northeastern scroll of the side from where they were in. From Boston, the map zipped past over to the uncharted territories a few clicks away.</p><p>So save the doc and somehow bring back the pods to working condition, Arcade grimaced inward, problems stacked on more of the same. They all quietly decided on the course of action afterward, the urgency having been well elaborated by Curie when Tom spoke of checking out those tenements. "That can wait; I will personally send a Railroad fist over there."</p><p>Tom only nodded, and then looking towards Arcade he began the preparations for the travel. They would need food and bedding, that far into the wasteland where the Minutemen did not stand guard over settlements, themselves mostly far and few in between. Sparse scenery of wildlife or people or raiders living in isolation. As they were discussing ration amounts Curie spoke up, "Wait, I thought I was going to assist as well?" she asked, somewhat amused in her thick French accent. Arcade looked at Tom, a shrug and the rations had been made for three people then.</p><p>"What about Nate?" Tom asked finally, seeing the woman who stood firm with determined eyes. She wanted to save that woman, not just for herself. Arcade knew the feeling, catching a glance of Tom's mechanized arm as he accepted the caps Curie handed him, that pipboy fused to skin now darkened.</p><p>"It shall be fine, Nate does not mind my going off on my own, he likes it actually." she finished quietly.</p><p>Their conversations had just ended, Arcade still pondering on her last words when the flaps tumbled open again, this time with some rapt over the leather as the red-haired woman stepped in, making them all look. Quickly coming forward as she stood over the sleeping girls, eyes bloodied and wrinkled, no doubt rising from deep, unanswered exhaustion from what he could tell. She grabbed the girl once, coming much harder but slowing down as she reached the pale skin, her fingers now only a touch over the warm exterior that still participated in that rhythmic motion, eyes serene and closed. She was beautiful this one, Arcade wondered, he tried not to wonder what life had brought the girl to this bed. Cait's eyes were downcast, no words to say, not to these strangers anyways. Arcade motioned to Tom, found him staring, and soon made him understand, stepping quietly as the three of them started to move, the two men following Curie out those flaps, exiting the theatre to leave to Cait and her ward alone.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Cait </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>The doctor was examining the dark, burnt pieces from the simulation pods against the now running generators in the big tent, taking a sip of the drink allowed her mind to numb then as she watched him work, the drink somewhat smoothening the process of existence. Straining her eyes she then looked once more towards the girl who lay on the bed, now transferred over to the central chamber of the tent, clothed in light-colored cotton garments that Arcade had procured for her from somewhere.</p><p>At this point the number of favors was too many to count, Whisper would live, and that was enough. A week or so of rest, was the doctor's call, eyes shut so still, almost seeming never to open again. She didn't miss the great absence down one side of the raised blanket either, shuddering she sat there wondering what words she could say once the time came, wondering if words could even matter.</p><p>She eyed him again, finding the bespectacled man approaching her then. She leaned aside and let him sit beside her; soon she saw a cup of the same dark liquid in his grasp as well. Taking a sip he went on, "She'll be fine" the doctor spoke up, trying to reassure her no doubt, he had just arrived after an hour, somewhat surprised to see her there now that she thought about it. The man went on some more after taking a sip. She looked at him, his words wasted to a Cait who gazed pointedly at the doctor; strong features on a face that had started to cure, wrinkles behind the eyes and lines on his forehead, and yet still those sharp and young eyes behind those optics. Those pretty eyes could use some kisses, she mused. He deserved that much, at least.</p><p>She leaned in hence, coming close and cutting him off at once, the man paused, no reactions in him to give. She looked up and saw him then, eyes that had not a hint of attraction for her form. Her feminine persuasions completely lost on him as she soon realized, staying still she met those light green eyes again, slowly sighing and accepting this time what she had already understood. Coming back she sat down and lit a cigarette; a quiet had settled over them again, Tom stood over by the side, going over something on that pipboy of his, and from where she sat she could only make out traced maps outlined in blue. Her eyes went over to Curie who stood by on the other side; the pretty young flower was reaching between the shelves, preparing the clinic for another day of service no doubt.</p><p>"Thank you, for saving her.", she said then, seeing the man beside her who sat mostly unperturbed by her prior advances, a pondering gaze over his glassed eyes that did not concern her one bit, she was sure. No doubt part of the same puzzle that Tom tried to unravel over there as well, so then why was he sitting by her?</p><p>"Don't mention it", the voice came quick, "I'm sorry about her leg, there was nothing I could do," he said quietly, his voice seemed to care but Cait dared not believe it. Further queries were then made, her asking about compensation; the man only staring, scratching his head comically, and looking confused.</p><p><em>What is this man planning?</em> She suspiciously thought. Finding the altruism out from the man sends red flags into her mind. Her outer self impassive, she nodded, remembering the idea that had been raised after the doctor denied all her gifts, "So when are we leaving to find the prosthetics?" she asked matter-of-factly before going on, "I know somebody from Malden, he'll know if those buildings even exist.", she had said then.</p><p>Arcade was surprised, having not expected the help from her end, she clearly saw on his face. Soon, eagerly revealing to her what had kept them worrying all night as he came close. Her mind went to the city then, finding nothing of the medical buildings the man spoke of. Perhaps southern Boston then? The spectacled men rubbed his chin, looking her way, and asked her to find her friend at once, later revealing to her the complications regarding the doctor of the den.</p><p>A quiet had been returned to them, Arcade leaning back as his eyes became distant again. Cait spoke up, finding her chance in the low hum of the outside winds that still had not seized their ramblings, "You're not with him, are you?" she asked nonchalantly, looking over that imposing figure stood to one corner, the long coat lining his shoulders perfectly as the long parted flaps stood heavy against a form that was shifting weights among feet. The question left him staring, staring then stopping, "it's fine." she leaned back then spoke before wondering. <em>I don't blame you, I'd chase after a man like that too</em>, "I know you saw those wounds, doctor." She said, changing the subject, "When were ya going to ask me about them?"</p><p>"I...I didn't mean to pry, these things can be delicate matters, no point relating to the actual surgery." he finished awkwardly, not knowing where to look. She nodded, <em>delicate</em>. The man was quiet again, leaning back but she knew her words left had him troubled. The institute, those <em>fucking</em> bastards, another reason Nate had failed her, she remembered.</p><p>"Toy princesses, that's what they were made to be; pleasure-bots for the guys on the top", she got up, turning around to find him not expecting the gesture, "I'll tell her of the man who saved her life and if fortune willing, will help her walk as well.", then more quietly, more to herself, " Maybe she'll finally get over some of her fear of men in white coats", giving him a look she came close, close enough that skin brushed skin while landing a kiss on the older man's cheek. It was cute in a way, she figured.</p><p>Moving across the room she found the man of her desires standing ahead, looking intently at some files. Old prewar registries no doubt, she reached for his coat, grabbing a handful and pulling. Breathing him in as she had come very close. He turned, Cait came close and her arms grabbed him tight, "You wanna get out of here?" she asked quietly, somehow breathless in his arms.</p><p>"I'm busy, Cait", he said, quiet in his deep voice, eyes not totally averted to her, which was always a good sign. Oh well, her bargaining chip couldn't come handier anywhere else than right now, she rationalized.</p><p>Not letting go she smiled, reaching down her bosom to reveal the real shiny piece of token out from layers within, roulette-like segmented lines running across a circular boundary that inscribed a stylized 38 on both sides as she flipped it between her fingers before his eyes. Eyes that were entranced, not unlike the time she had drugged him, she wondered, trying to imagine what purchase this odd object held over the mysterious man. He sighed and smiled ruefully at her and she knew she had won.</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <strong> Nate </strong>
  </span>
</p><p>The burgeoning moon was well above the tall state office by now, Nate looked up freely, his eyes finding themselves high above among the stars in the clear night sky, the small radio device on Piper's back playing an old Sinatra tune.</p><p>
  <em>"I pick myself up and get back in the race, that's life!"</em>
</p><p>She came close, joining him as he stood over the ledge of the eastern rooftop from which he could see the dotted tents all across the southeastern view, the rest blocked behind even taller ruins of stone. He turned around, found her smiling as she gestured at him, him removing a hand from his pocket to find a cigarette for her, lighting it up against a clear face for an instant in the twilight they were in.</p><p>
  <em>"I thought of quitting baby, but my heart ain't just gonna buy it."</em>
</p><p>"So, this place, huh? You sure they're gonna show?" The woman was pacing now, he saw, no doubt trying to keep blood in those shaking legs. He really shouldn't have brought her here, he worried, then remembering the words he had bandied with her, ah yes, that's how. No way he knew how to win against her yet, smiling he came close, going back to the old days when they had stalked camps and mercenary groups spread across Boston. The Gunners were the last to go, having finally returned some semblance of peace to the ruins of the old city until it had all gone to hell in a handbasket again.</p><p>Nate only nodded, finding himself coming before her and leaning against the stairwell wall, from here he could see the far reaches out east where the Commonwealth laid still a beast not entirely tamed. He remembered the old Castle down from the midland to Salem up north where strange things had been going on. Synth sightings among them, leaving for Arcadia no doubt.</p><p>It was then he saw; against the clear sky, the far edges of the night gave view to a disturbance in black, soon growing before his eyes, motioning to Piper as he strained and soon enough every soul in Goodneighbor would have heard of those rotor fans, gusting downwards as the aircraft came steadily down onto the rooftop, soon enough giving way to the tall man in a Knight Paladin's armor, all down to the laser the rifle he held against that enormous frame, a flash of light off its left collar, Nate's eyes rising farther upward to find a face instead of a helmet on top of the war machine.</p><p>"Captain '' Nate spoke up, coming close to the deafening chopper, the music from Piper's back dying amidst the loudness as it was switched off. The captain nodded and started after him soon to exit the rooftops and find themselves the quieter, warmer quarters down below. From inside Nate could make out the clamor of the townsfolk outside, a distant buzzing that they waded through to enter the room and sit among the well-furnished chairs, people outside no doubt curious to see the Brotherhood here, their fill of excitement quenched for the months, Nate wondered.</p><p>Shaking his head he looked at the old man, somehow after almost a year, the man seemed almost ten years younger. His beard was short-cropped now, graying hair tied behind his back that had once been short, and skin taut against the cool that still permeated the room they were in. Captain Brandis had been a broken man once, getting to him and finding him in that bunker had been a strange experience, reawakening humanity or so it was. The man came off the suit, in swift action, he could now see the slender form of the fifty-something man, come over from the clouds out east where the Boston Airport had been made into a permanent installation for the Brotherhood, a compromise among many, Nate reminded himself.</p><p>"Nate", the man said, coming close and clasping him in an embrace, a somber second passed when he recalled the scene, a naked man scratching at bloodied walls in the darkness of the old bunker, he remembered and found himself tearful, but the moment was broken.</p><p>"Captain Brandis, it's good to see you.", and it truly was, here was a man who had been brought back from the depths. He looked into those eyes; finding the same man if but better built, already out for combat missions he was bemused to realize.</p><p>His thoughts and Piper's further inquiries as the room settled into comforting warmth were cut abruptly short when Desdemona came into the room, alone, as she always did. The door had slowly clicked open and closed giving way to the leader of the Railroad into their midst.</p><p>Her arms were folded beneath her chest, a cigarette that trailed smoke off fingers that were painted black. He saw her wearing the same jacket over the usual rod-lined vests all Railroad agents wore. She came forward, finding Brandis wanting and then looking towards him, having no time to spare for the Paladin.</p><p>"So, what is this about then?" she asked, rather impatiently.</p><p>Nate turned to his old friend, remembering the trip across the Malden by foot, "The Brotherhood has agreed to help, Dez. No need to fight this one alone"</p><p>The soft-haired woman only looked at him, eyes beyond furious, the thought of even being in the same room as a Paladin would have enraged her berserk perhaps a month ago, however, talks had been progressing well, until those beasts had come. Now nowhere was safe, Diamond City virtually defenseless in its long unguarded stretches of borders while populist fervor rose among the Stands and the upper levels, and after the Elections would come to the ultimatum, he didn't doubt that for a second.</p><p>"How many units?" she asked quietly and Nate explained the words of the agreement tumbling out his mouth in a practiced tone, Piper stood by, mentally taking it all. An hour later the silence outside was regained, no more cries or hollering could be heard through the boarded-up windows now, leaking none of the street light within, theirs was a single bulb over the square table around which were couches and a humming radiator that kept the cold out. Tom saw Dez sit beside Piper, speaking softly but in tones where compromise seemed not an option. Brandis had his eyes closed, sat with his back straight, a soldier at ease, Nate mused.</p><p>His thoughts then drifted back to dawn, remembering all that he had explained to the old boss, coming over by the old tombs early in the morning to find her drowsing off, a syringe placed beside her on the terminal table. Further expansion beneath the old cemetery had given more space for personal quarters among the agents, the more wooden caskets and rotten detritus they removed, the more the area under the old the church they claimed back, giving way to a medical room, a barracks, and a few personal quarters for all the upper agents.</p><p>He walked through one pre-war tunnel of darkened red as he had made his way through what had been a mausoleum for some posh woman, coming within to find Dez leaning in that chair, a frown over her brows and breathing gently.</p><p>"Boss," he remembered calling out. Her eyes opened slowly, going over him once as she turned. The usual pleasantries were not entertained for too long before the reason of his arrival became the subject of inquiry.</p><p>He sat down on the couch, Dez turning in her chair fully now, the cigarette in her hand making a steady line above her.</p><p>"So, he <em>is</em> here, that boy." she almost whispered looking sideways with a smile.</p><p>Nate found himself staring and then understood, of course, Tom, he seemed to forget how unnoticeable the man was, how away from the crowd he always liked to be. Had the man ever even heard applause, for all the deeds he had done or were there only cries for mothers and widows of evil men?</p><p>He remembered answering then, proffering all he could about the young man. Dez added her insights and further reports she had scrounged up since the last time the topic had been brought up.</p><p>"They lost someone, started as a three-man group, you see. Out by El Paso somewhere they got hit hard, a riot started there soon after, and the local despot was deposed, hundreds dead and the inciter missing.'' She took a drag remembering more instances of the remaining two who had traveled across the country, not easily cutting a straight line across it but having to twist and wind their approach to even make it through. It truly did seem like an adventure, if anything.</p><p>"You should be more careful, Nate.'' The older woman got up, bringing something over from a cabinet to the side of the bed was where the PAM reports, signed in binary code lines that were the signatures of a very special Aussultron.</p><p>Dez came and sat beside him, "He's dangerous", she said knowingly, then handed him the file, looking into it he was a bit amused, "What's this?"</p><p>She smiled a little, coming over closer and looking at the file along with him, the hard woman letting a rare side of her show, "Threat analysis. She thinks that man is as dangerous as a nuclear missile."</p><p>Nate had to laugh out; Dez had joined him, seeming truly mirthful. The moment passed as he looked on, finding more regarding the Lion from out west, then more about a certain individual before the young man's time. The documents were extensive; from Dez's early days to some accounts moving back before even her time. No doubt the pages within traveling across many hideouts over the years.</p><p>"Joshua Graham.", he read a name, taking a drag from the cigarette she passed to him while looking as well, taking it with a smile he frowned back down at the name.</p><p>He read the paragraph that came after, his eyes widening with every word. Finding Dez's eyes he saw her understanding look.</p><p>"Does he know? About any of this?" Nate asked, shocked at the discoveries he was making down the page he perused.</p><p>"I'd say so. He's unstable, Nate. Signs of post-traumatic stress notwithstanding", she took the file from him, showing him signs of carnage reports mostly; the legion was terrorizing the west and the midlands, their growing numbers would no doubt soon reach the Capital and then the Commonwealth, there were a few pictures among them, piled up bodies burning, all draped in those hockey pads and helmets, burning grimly. There were crosses as well, an empty field of them overlooking a cliff from which an eyebot had taken the image, T-shaped dots from the distance, too numerous to count.</p><p>"Kid's been fighting the legion his whole life." Nate said, starting to get up, a usual weariness had come over him, and yet it had been so early into the morning still, "you can allow him to get a bit jumpy", he turned, taking a drag as he went on, "Still, what's important is if he'll help us."</p><p>"Don't see how, unless he's got a few old pre-war simulation pods hidden somewhere." she leaned back, "you know we're done, Nate. Without the pods and without Amari to modify them the Pacifists have no choice but to take sides with the Reformists, it's a rigged game at this point. The Railroad is done," she said with some finality.</p><p>Nate could hear the fatigue in her voice as well, the dark recesses around her eyes hinting of many sleepless nights spent no doubt negotiating, strategizing with both faction leaders in hopes of finding peace. The railroad was coming apart, a division among the two sects, each with its growing numbers of synths members that had started as participation in rational debates to quickly accelerate into the fire bombings of yesterday in about six months.</p><p>"The independent synth coalition", Nate spoke up softly, now he was leaning against the table, the terminal hummed softly beside him, "Orion, he can bring them together."</p><p>"That one?" Dez shrugged, "I dunno, Nate. He's no fighter, all that meat on him, all for show."</p><p>Nate tilted his head, trying to remember the ageless bald man, tall and imposing in stature yet infinity mild in his manners. An architect or builder of some sort soon found to be of high acumen too, bringing out and heralding the synth colonies outside Goodneighbor, now housing the homeless from the city as well.</p><p>"Quite the enterprising fellow, though." She said, eyes somewhere else, pondering, "Bring him here, let's at least talk to him then." her eyes met Nate finally. Nodding after finally finding some resolution to the events of the following night, finding some closure he remembered reaching for the door, looking around the brick-lined room one last time before she had called out once more.</p><p>"Oh", her tone harder this time, so an order then, g<em>reat,</em> "And bring Thomas along, I think it's time we talked as well."</p><p>The room he was currently in got a knock on the door soon after, bringing Nate to the fold. He saw Piper already move towards it, her eye leaning in to check through the old world door, the small peephole through which she then turned and faced them, her eyes told him who it was.</p><p>John Hancock walked into the room, Ren was behind him along with a couple of men armed well enough. The mayor came to Dez, greeting her then saw Nate standing beside the Knight.</p><p>"Nate, what is this? What have you brought into my town?" he asked slowly in that raspy voice of his, the captain's hat stood proudly over his head, casting a menacing shadow over his face.</p><p>"Peace, John. He's a close friend, and he can help us." Nate paused, looking into those dark eyes, " You know it too, brother, we need the help."</p><p>The crimson cloaked ghoul walked around the standing piece of power armor in the ensuing silence that followed, examining its finer intricacies over the glare of the enlightened metal wire. He then turned around, walking slowly to come over to Nate; Brandis stood close enough to hear what the old man had to say.</p><p>"There was a time when you would have asked first, brother." the old man said softly, not angry, mostly tired sounding. He was weary too he saw, they all were. Behind those eyes was a sixty-something year only man who seemed like he had been forced to bite onto more than he could chew.</p><p>"John, come on, listen, I-"</p><p>"Save it, partner." he raised an arm, stopping Nate it at once, "You've been carrying this load right there with me from the start. The way I see it, you run the big ol' green as much as I do. It's about god damn fucking time you started acting like it too."</p><p>He felt blessed, he had always feared the day when his adjunct-hood would give birth to faults in their bond, but hearing those words he was struck, remembering the oaths he had taken that the day a ghoul was made into the mayor of Diamond City, remembering why after all this time he still pushed on.</p><p>"Hey, I promised we were in this together, right?" he said with a smile he mustard easily.</p><p>"Till the end" the ghoul found himself nodding, he turned around the Brandis who had stood wordless up until then.</p><p>"So, how many can you give, Captain Brandis?" Hancock had turned around, asking about in the silence of the room.</p><p><em>Of course</em>, ghoul hearing, Nate shook his head, stepping forward to speak when Brandis started first, meeting the ghoul in the eye who had not deigned him the privilege of sight yet.</p><p>"Four squadrons for central Boston, three for the southern side. We'll run patrols from the undercity to the Police Station in Cambridge, any activity, and the home-turf should hear about it in seconds."</p><p>"No, I mean how many of these pretty things." The ghoul motioned his wrinkled face towards the suit that had no master for now. Brandis almost laughed out, "You think we'll give you power armor" he paused, stopped himself from calling him what he was. Nate only sighed, at least old Brandis was trying.</p><p>Continuing he moved to him, closer to the armor he had arrived in, "No, I'll just tell you the truth, we are running low of these things ourselves, and besides, who would train your people? You're all more likely to twist your spine than move in that thing without someone telling you how."</p><p>"Oh, I bet I have a professional who can help us with that, but no matter", the old ghoul sourly said, and then thinking for a while as he brought his fingers together, "Weapons then, give me the guns. I know you have those, Captain," he said cocking his head.</p><p>"We have the standard-issue laser rifles, yes. But you'd burn through most of your cell stock in a day, trust me. We can't help you with the ammunition. Guns, well" he tilted his head, "about two hundred for one-fifty," the man said, calculating the exchange.</p><p>"Bullshit, two hundred for a hundred, take it or leave. Oh, and don't mind the door, you can go out the roof." he brought out a cigarette, the old Ghoul could still drive a hard bargain, Nate wondered, seeing his friend unsure for the first time. "I'll have to consult my superiors, still not sure how you think you'll manage with the cells, well, that's your problem I suppose." looking Nate's way warily he nodded, then turned back.</p><p>"Fine then, this meeting is adjourned," the raspy ghoul said once last time before moving out. He saw Ren had stayed behind while the guards moved out with him, she eyed the Paladin quietly as he got into his armor, a radio signal had been dispatched, soon the vertibird came to pick him off, soon a dark smudge in the night sky, the city returned to silence once more.</p><p>"So, working with the Brotherhood, what's where we're at now, huh?" Ren asked.</p><p>Nate didn't say anything, then turned to leave as he reprimanded the captain, "You have any better ideas, soldier?"</p><p>"Speaking out of the conduct, sir? This stinks of a setup."</p><p>Had he given her leave to speak out of turn? Sighing inward he just went downstairs, the captain following behind as she shut the iron grate door and then the wooden one behind it.</p>
<hr/><p>So, another chapter down, this one more cozy and chill. No one died as well haha</p><p>So, the usuals, Lemme know what to think, do you like how the factions/characters are unraveling? Who the hell is Orion and what's up with the Platinum Chip? All that good stuff, anyway, hope you enjoyed it, and stay tuned! :)</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Episode 4: Remittance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Episode 4: Remittance</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once, before a word has been spoken."</em>
</p><p>-Rodion Raskolnikov</p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Tom</span> </strong>
</p><p>He was leaning his back against a cushioned headrest behind the large king-sized bed on the second floor of the old pre-war office building, a couple of layers of sheets over his lower form shielded him against the cool of the breeze that swayed in through open windows. The room was darkened in the slow rising dawn that was still hours away. The silvery chip was before them then, clasped in dark, soon enough reminding him of all the words he had uttered back in the cave all those years ago. The names and dates, he still remembered them all that had been said. He looked back at the chip, this chip that had brought the legion to the ground, brought House to the bargaining table, and perhaps now could unravel the Commonwealth as well.</p><p>Already unraveling, if he were being honest, to have come so far to find and at the very end have something go awry. The coming of the vault dweller complicated things, Nick would be wary of him every more, every step under scrutiny. He already expected Ren to be out of the man's inner circle, so no way how he saw to do this one quietly. He remembered the name, Nick Valentine, upon further inquiry the fact that the PI was a second-generation synth had come to him in some surprise, they also said he was already in the city, looking about unseen. Remembering the card.</p><p>"Nick Valentine</p><p>Private Investigator</p><p>3rd Door, Pitcher Street</p><p>For all your detective needs,</p><p>Remittance appropriately applied."</p><p><em>July 15th, almost there now</em>, he found himself thinking. A common habit in the quiet loneliness that came during the early mornings of recent days, days when thoughts drifted to gloomier things, things he had lost or given up. A road so long that would finally come to an end, the final delivery.</p><p>He had started wondering about life after the job, in the quiet moments at the back of his head where thoughts often found themselves lost in more peaceable lands and distant happier memories. Somehow finding all he did weary over the years. He looked towards the woman who slept beside him, this time remembering most of what had transpired the night before, a smile in the dark on his face, one for her alone. His smile lowered a bit when he saw those deep scars on her back then, random acts of malevolence upon pale, smooth skin; old wounds that had left behind mean-looking tissue on her back and down her narrow waist, the rest of her wrapped in thick sheets he shared with her. No doubt denied the gifts of modern medicine, he noticed on the side.</p><p>He brushed her hair gently then, easily reaching across in the quiet of the night; her darkened red strands in the bluish tint of the moonlit room had started to make him remember her sweet spells and warm kisses, the softest of curls that straightened as they went over down her shoulders unbound, unfailingly noticing the shock collar marks above her slender neck then as well. Tom remembered stopping when he had seen those scars for the first time, she had been too into it to notice his abrupt pause. He watched them again; deep lines she hid behind hair and the wounds under them still older, a young collar then, he concluded grimly.</p><p>He receded the chip into more inner folds among his pockets, his other arm with the pipboy lit up instantly as he twisted his wrist to check the time. In the darkened room the blue glow radiating out the screen made visible some of the surrounding spaces close by. Whenever the winds rested for a moment; he could hear the softest of rustling from his left, the breathing rhythm of a woman deep in sleep, she was peaceful now like she had been right before falling asleep. The cries in the dead of night had made him jump at first as he started to remember; initially fearing some sort of attack. Soon finding the cries to be coming out his room; a helpless woman trapped in the four corners of her own troubled mind. He tried to raise her but then stopped, wondering if this was a layer into her he actually wanted to pierce through just yet, unable to find the resolve he had just sat there, watching. Soon the kicking had stopped, slow grumblings that eventually died down after leaving behind a soft rhythm of the breath. Once her torments were gone she slept like a baby, returning the room to a quiet he now found himself in.</p><p>Rising he stretched about, finding popping bones among knees and joints that had rested for too long. Going over to the basin in the room next door he washed his face in the dark, against the almost full moon he found the mirror to be pristine here, frowning for a second to find a buzz-cut face on the wall. He touched the smooth, cool, surface, wondering where the material had been fabricated for it seemed recently made. The glass frosting over at his warm puff of breath as he moved closer, seeing himself clearly in years probably.</p><p>
  <em>Need to shave.</em>
</p><p>Turning around he saw more small amenities of modernity that had seemingly come back to life around him, Tom had already found water to be running through centuries-old pipes, and the radiators heating every room had also become an afterthought in just these past few days. His eyes found the tenements out the bathroom window as he looked about, built across the western road where the neutral synths had decided to set their roots.</p><p>Unassuming and unwalled; the compound was peaceful from the distance, bright-colored shapes of prefab architecture dotting the surface far away, all of them smooth and strange in their form, with some that had lit windows on them, giving credence to the synths' inhuman work ethic. No doubt many would already have risen by now, against the frigid outside they would go back to their assigned duties. Tom turned his pipboy, a handful of hours past midnight, still an hour or so to go before the day could really begin.</p><p>As he came back to the bed, he saw Cait tucked in warmly. She did seem to like to sleep into herself, hadn't she fallen asleep in his arms? Tom leaned once again against the bed rest again, the cool in his bottom half dying in the muffled heat of the blankets around his feet, he brought up his pipboy, turning a few dials to quickly arrive where he had stopped last on those blue-tinted words, an old pre-war book about a man and his crimes and the redemption he had earned, it was an old book, old by half a millennia if the fine print could be believed. Still, getting it transcribed had been a gift. One amongst many from the old man atop the Casino.</p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Nick</span> </strong>
</p><p>The streets past Tenement Road were still quiet under the early heat of a steadily rising sun over Goodneighbor, past the roads were a show of floorless shacks had lined both footpaths on either side where bodies plied themselves in layers of warmth as the road in the middle had become the new path through to where he now stood before the darkened rubble of the den. Quiet then, as even those who fiercely contested over lines of the personal property now snuggled together against nature's malevolence in their sleep. Coat pulled close as both hands found warm pockets against the biting January air; Nick Valentine pushed against his knees as he got up facing the darkened husk of the view before him. Stepping carefully over blackened wooden floor panels and debris off the roof. From this distance he could distinctly make out the melted nature of the pods that lay destroyed here, a few more in the debris below in the basement, all of them irreparably destroyed.</p><p>Nick had feared this, the memory dens were an obvious target for anyone who rejected the memory wipes. No one talked about it but the slow rise of an underground movement amongst the synths that grew in nonhuman back channels and private gatherings which were akin to some sort of revolution from another time in history. His mind took him back, memories of a different man, memories he had learned to live with. Guiding him, being his compass on a rudderless world.</p><p>The long trench coat then rose sideways at a violent gust of wind, a flutter of leaves and debris rolling across the southern road to his left when he saw the lone man approach him. Nate seemed well enough if a bit low of sleep. He nodded to the rueful man as he came close, examining the destroyed pods across the end of the room, walls and window cavities lay darkened shells of their former selves around them.</p><p>"So, where were you?" The man asked simply him. In more than a year that he had known the fellow; Nate never did seem to get agitated; an unrelenting force through most of what the Commonwealth had thrown at him, and always with a smile. Like this was all an encore of some sort; that the worst had already gone by, like the post-apocalypse was some walk in the park for the man. Nick never did figure out why he bore the load eagerly on his back, like owing the whole world some sort of penance for his sins. For now, the man seemed only tired, appearing grim, against the weak morning sun his visage was something dangerous and dark in the empty road. Many would almost forget the same man a year ago, upending the whole land single-handedly, securing most of everything west of Malden and south till the Zone, and always with that smile, the one that had been slowly dying over the days.</p><p>Nick's mind went back to the synth attack on Diamond City afterward, then to Billy Roger and the girl as well. He remembered seeing the Captain over the green that fateful day, and then the day after when a suspected body hadn't been called in for. He pondered, looking at Nate's way; wearing armor apparently, he was still surprised to see. His gaze rested for a moment on the quiet man's face, No, not him, someone else then, he judged, reducing the number of suspects to just two now other than the compromised woman. So those two, then. He surmised, trying to figure out how exactly the Captain of the Guard had found purchase over the two foreigners.</p><p>"Just work, someone bribed the eastern guard duty, had to check up on those leads." He pulled his hat close, the newly arrived winds not having relented yet, and the sky a hue of orange blotted over off-white cream in place of the serene azure of before. It would be another cold day no doubt; still, the tilling of the fields wouldn't stop for anything he was sure.</p><p>"I see, any luck?" Nate asked, moving towards the half-melted pod that stood on three stands, still somewhat fused to the ground below. At Nick's shaking head and negative grunt, the other man nodded then, both returning to a familiar silence that the pair had shared over the months together. He saw Nate's eyes glazing over the burnt pods, repairing them would be a pain in the ass, no doubt. The job seemed completely out of Nate's league from what he had gathered, the man was morose, unusually quiet in the slowly calming morning breeze when he suddenly saw Ada walk to them, arriving in her original form which was a heavily modified Aussultron unit that moved like something unnaturally quiet. Nick was all surprised to not hear her before she came and stood practically a foot away. Pods or no, Nate was still one hell of a mechanic he knew, someone who could learn on the job and do it quickly.</p><p>Nick understood a little of what his friend planned that morning when he saw the robot come by, "So, you're gonna ask her, huh?" He spoke up slowly after brief pleasantries were made with the. Looking the man's way; a ready smile masking his ever-present worries on that dogged face, "She's the one who's always going on about the Commonwealth being too boring, well okay, let's see if she can handle this, then", he motioned towards the broken devices, sounding confident that the girl would pull through. Nick nodded, and found himself wondering; the legend of the savage Mechanist had gone from being a murderous robot overload voice in the sky to a shy seventeen-year-old girl who still hid from the public, preferring meeting people over screens rather than in person. He still remembered the one job she had asked of him, finding vacuum receptors, was it? Her fortress was enormous, as he had soon found, Nick knew it was highly likely the young genius could probably think up something to help them. He saw Ada then converse with Nate, going over the particulars of their trip to the heartlands north and then east.</p><p>"And what about the plastics?" Nick asked, finding Nate having turned towards him, "I checked in with the Railroad, Nate. Also, Hancock and I had a wonderful dinner last night, you should have come actually.” he stared at him down, "No one is on the same page, Nate. What is going on? Hancock doesn't know about the plastics and no one under the old church knows anything about some rogue agent." He looked the somber man's way, unsure if he should go on, "You sure you can trust the kid? I bet he's already compromised, Nate." he finished softly, in the quiet morning they were alone and his words left to the winds. Slowly Nate nodded and then spoke up, "Then find out more, talk to him. Give him a carrot, see how he bites"</p><p>The synth looked at the old hero, finding a harder visage on him now. Armor the usual bits of combat pauldrons and vest segmented into a well-hugged suit within. Upon Ada he saw a variety of weapons strapped, armaments adorned the side banks in her storage holds.</p><p>"So, did you get my message then?" Nate asked, already having turned from the rubble by then, Nick following at his step. They exited the restricted site, soon becoming foot traffic in the winding paths that led to the courtyard. He remembered the note that had been sent into his chambers, a human coming into the synth colony was already something big enough, but then having a message from the Sole Survivor, well, it had almost been a royal invitation at that point, almost like Nate knew it would happen.</p><p>His nephew, the words still didn't quite register. He had promised himself that Orion would not walk Dima's path, a path paved in righteousness that was blind to mercy. The synths around them didn't have his rudder, the world must appear a strange and possible place for the newly freed beings, each a dangerous potential. He didn't even fully know if Orion had a rudder, or he had thought so. His answer had left him more worried than before.</p><p>"Do not worry Uncle; we aren't all savages to the whims of the wasteland. Morality is a question of exacting thought, we are moral because we are rational." the young man had gone on, somewhat bashful, "Still, there is someone"; he had paused, looking his way. Those silver eyes so much like Dima's, "a man, a great and terrible man. I can feel his thoughts, his passions, and some glimpses of a greener world; I know you see those too."</p><p>The boy had made him stare, shaking, Orion had gone on, an innocent smile on that wide face, "Oh it's only pieces, pieces the real me can only observe as another", going quiet before resolutely finishing, "but still, no need for you to worry, Uncle, this is my own will. I know this, trust me."</p><p>Those eyes had been hard, determined enough to make Nick realize that his words would fall on deaf ears. In a month Orion had been back from Arcadia, a month later a sizable number of estranged synths had already started following the simple grabbed man devotedly, the month next was when he had established the colony adjoining Goodneigher. Now, a month after the first foundations had been set; the man had become a savior, a hero among both races.</p><p>"Well, it's an honor, wouldn't you say?" Nick answered knowingly to the armored man, already having bickered fiercely over the involvement of Orion into the whole Railroad business for months on end, old wounds needn't be disturbed, he thought, believing this a battle he couldn't actually win.</p><p>"He came here, Nick. He chose this, he chose to help Diamond City, and don’t you think he gets a choice?"</p><p>He was caught, Orion himself had been determined enough to not be swayed by his words anyway, no point arguing with Nate any further, as an old voice in his head spoke up then, a gesture so familiar over the years, <em>It's out of your hands now, Nick.</em></p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Cait</span> </strong>
</p><p>The rain was a dream then, Cait's eyes were closed and her low breathing sent soft murmurs into a quiet room somewhere high above in Goodneighbor, yet in her mind, she was trapped; too deep in sleep to remember any of it. In her mind, she was back in the cot, back in that tiny shackle of existence that she had called her life. Soon a familiar set of events started to play. From behind thin metal walls, she could hear the men step up. She was wearing that rag, she remembered as she turned her head to look; naked feet slowly treading wet soil to turn, toes driving into the soil in anticipation. They were armed; she saw, a group of about five or six in menacing-looking jackets and boots. Their faces had been blurred then all appearing the same.</p><p>She saw them talking to him, him quietly nodding as a sudden jerk of his head towards her made her flinch, eyes that were, what had they been? That face was a blur to her now, another figure came from behind her, and a hard knock to her shoulder sent her to the ground, a gesture that was so familiar. She saw who had pushed her, eyes that slowly turned and found her. She seemed angry at her, another familiar face she could not entirely place. She did not rise then, a whimper came out as Cait remembered wanting to never get up again. The cool clasp of the collar around her neck and her echoing cries had been the last memories of home. Finally, the men carried her way to do what they pleased into the quiet distance as the two parents stood by watched wordlessly, the rain still pattering gently as it always did.</p><p>Cait had woken suddenly, a readiness behind eyes that abruptly opened to a glare of the sun at her turning. She found the room empty, his side of the bed undisturbed, taut pillow neatly placed, she noticed. A slow rustle of water pattering on tiles came from the room adjoining as she listened. Here in the posh quarters of the office building life was good, as Ren had confirmed to her. That lady sure knew how to live, she decided, smiling as she reached under the mattress to find a laced cigarette below, the last one.</p><p><em>What would I do without you?</em> Wondering as she held up the thin stick of white. The radio was a triage of vocals, rising crescendos, and deep wind instruments that rang out into the room when she reached for it on the bedside table.</p><p>
  <em>"Their memories will soon grow cold, until the end of time.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There'll be a little band of gold, to prove that you are mine."</em>
</p><p>Soon the room was growing into a haze of bluish smoke in its half-lit surroundings, finding calm in her mind as sounds drifted from her ears and worry leaked out a relaxing mind. Feeling the beat she started to sway when the door to the bathroom door suddenly opened, giving her a pleasant view she was just waking up to. She felt warm first, then slowly straightening as a layer of sheet covered her fore, meeting his watching eyes.</p><p>"You're up.", he walked towards the couch half-naked, reaching over to a shirt on the couch with quiet efficiency, soon turning over and lacing his boots as he sat down, face a warm sheen of sweat off steaming water, no doubt. A bath did seem like a good idea right about now, she wondered.</p><p>Taking a puff she spoke up, "Going somewhere, luv'?" Asking while eyeing the man deftly hooking into those small attachments to the tiny rings behind those long blades she had decided to give the man back. She had seen him move with those silvery fangs, a force of nature to behold in action. Plus, he had smiled like a boy when she returned them to him last night, knowing how much he liked those no matter how hard he tried to deny it. Fawning over the revolver as an act, no, these blades had painted sands red, hadn't they? She took a drag, trying to remember an old children's tale she had heard down in the Rail once with Whisper.</p><p>
  <em>"Chop and Dice come to end your vice,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>mince you like mole rats and eat you with rice."</em>
</p><p>A children's tale to be sure but she was starting to see the bloody origin of the innocent rhyme. As the silvery blades were once firmly attached to the inner side of his coat sleeves; he twisted his wrists, causing the pair of shines to retract quickly under those brown, creased folds. Hands once unoccupied, he looked up, snapping out of the ritual he had been lost in, "Yes, actually, Malden. Medford Memorial, someplace northeast, shouldn't be too hard to find. Most likely has something we need."</p><p>"That so?" she said slowly, then with a rising grin, "be a shame to see you get lost, my heart wouldn't be able to take it.", she said coyly, "somebody needs to keep an eye on ya", the drug was really working now, she felt as she watched the man with some amount of growing desire.</p><p>
  <em>"Don't want the world to have and hold,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>For fame is not my life"</em>
</p><p>"Well, you wanna tag along?" He asked then, amiably enough and seemingly genuine in his request. She eyed him for a moment before answering, "Is the water hot?” she asked.</p><p>"Boiling, don't burn yourself now." The long coat was over him at this point, the man could pass for a roguish caravan gun hand, stealing young hearts along the way if he just didn't wear those monstrosities behind him. Well, he seemed to be learning as for now he only reached for that magnum by the table, its optical attachment removed. Her mind for a second vividly remembered the anti-material rifle that had cried out in the empty afternoon, finding them scampering off just for a second long enough for her to know what she had to do. The gun was broken now somewhere out there in the old city; half its barrel bent trying to block a menacing claw that had been bone on steel, Whisper had been heavy enough without it.</p><p>
  <em>"Just want a little band of gold,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>To prove that you are mine"</em>
</p><p>Nodding she took another drag, a few moments idling about her mind wondering if the man looked better with or without all that golden mane she had shaved off him. Then coming back quickly when she saw him ready to move out, "Well then, your mind?" she asked, a low questioning smile on her face.</p><p>Tom chucked, "Modesty, Cait? Couldn't say it suits you.” a devilish grin that sucked her in, her eyes rested on his form; a darkened yellow over a shapely head, face cleanly shaved and eyes the deepest sapphire blues. He took the magnum and cocked the cylinder a few times as he twirled it once and slid it into his hostel behind the belt. As he was starting to move she came close, reaching for him as he walked to answer her call; she grabbed his wrist tight and pulled him close. Smoke still in her breath as she tasted something menthol-like. He pulled her off him after half a dozen seconds or more had passed, gently, of course. The thin sheet that had been over her now lay on the bed, slowly coming down she found them again, coiling inside the white folds as she puffed, “I’ll be down in five.” she breathed out, stretching as her eyes squinted shut.</p><p>He had a distant gaze on his face, wondering about something, Cait never could tell what went on in that head of his, giving her a nod he quietly walked out the room, leaving her alone to the ending rhythms of a Don Cherry tune.</p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Arcade</span> </strong>
</p><p>The outside reception of the office building was a quiet affair in the early hours of the day still; the tall doctor leaned over the aging receptionist as he failed to convey the spelling of his last name one more time. Sighing he tried again, this time more slowly.</p><p>He had gone out for a smoke, half an hour had passed since he had seen Nate move out with a determined step. The man had appeared decked out, no doubt out for a stroll somewhere less friendly around the parts. He didn't miss the actively engaging robot that moved beside him as well, almost human in its speech. The Sole Survivor had not seen him there, passing across the narrow footpaths to turn around to the rubble of the den that now lay in ruin.</p><p>It had also been thirty minutes since Tom had sent him the coordinates. Something about a medical hospital in the uncharted northeast somewhere in Malden. Arcade had to agree, it was a long shot, a mutant holdout currently, the promise of finding any fully working auto doc was a long shot, and still, some components might prove valuable. He remembered seeing the copper-haired girl with dark rings under her eyes move out of the town too, her human body lagging behind the ferocity of the robot within her. Her words after a short walk over to him told him of the assembled the fist and how she'd show them the way to the edges of the compound, busier still as she tending in the big tent. Moving out with a team of six out to the southern reaches of Boston where Tom had discovered the safe houses for the rouge synths. Soon enough something had to show itself to the fore, he was sure. These people, whoever they were, were clean. No traces or no leads that ever traced back, no clue still how his friend's explosives had gone missing, either.</p><p>He stood there alone on the foot side for a while after the hassle of the reception room was over, watching the few caravan brahmins who still operated during this time of the year move into the main porch where soon enough the day stalls would set themselves up. His mind then drifted, going back to his morning meal, meeting that peculiar lone synth in the dining hall. The man had a fedora on top and a long trench coat over most of his worn, synthetic form, shell fraying at points revealing hollow spaces visible from where he had sat. Flashes of blazing yellow eyes he caught glimpses of, eyes mostly always ending up on his torn form and overall roughened exterior, a bizarre sight that fascinated him. Arcade had to control himself, he realized. No one seemed to mind the synth, Yofen practically smiling at the figure in a town that still seldom saw a synth walk into its walls. All synth integration efforts have failed or are still poorly implemented as of yet.</p><p>As the man left he caught sight of his eyes once more, the synth was looking at him, a glance that was cut off as he walked past him, moving quietly out the hall where Arcade sat watching.</p><p>His thoughts were cut short when the double door into the sizable hotel building opened, a few nondescript older folks moved out after which he finally arrived, Arcade acting exasperated at his late arrival, the man only shrugged, blaming Curie with eyes turning inward. The man looked well, he mused, the old riot armor now so heavily morphed over the years, coat lapels that sat wilted on his chest, lines of the belt running over his torso, a wide one around his waist as well, face having become a few tones lighter after the dirt and the hair a completely alien look. Arcade quickly decided the man looked better with than without. Still, the man looked well, clean enough too. Soon declaring to himself that having a bath was good for humanity in general, period. He finished, remembering his own hour-long soak in the tub.</p><p>Arcade saw the woman come out then, pale face squinting into the sun as she looked up at him. Deep scarlet strands fell among her temples, against the bright sun they appeared like laps of flames, the rest tied up behind and over a shoulder, the deepest emeralds for eyes on a boney, pale face as she met his gaze. Below she wore armor or the beginnings of it; weaved into patches and joints. After exchanging a few light pleasantries the company moved out onto the road left. Walking from the outskirts of the porch they soon made their way to the shade of a nearby stand wherefrom one could see the passersby emerge slowly out alleys and outroads to begin the bustle of the day.</p><p>"So, where to next?" Arcade asked Tom, the man paused for a moment before looking up to answer, "First of all, we found this PI character Nate told me to meet. We'll leave for Medford but after we find this guy", he ended, looking at both of them.</p><p>"Do ya know where Nick is?" Cait spoke up, hands on her knees as she leaned against the wall.</p><p>Arcade looked her way, "You know who he is?" he asked.</p><p>"Oh, sure. Nice fella helps folks around here solving mysteries."</p><p>Tom only nodded, meeting Arcade's eyes, who then went on, asking her about his synthetic build. She was surprisingly very candid about the fact; telling them the story of how a lone synth that looked plastic had wandered into the city many years ago, saving the mayor's kin and given citizenship into the city, apparently having a talent for tracking leads and uncovering kidnappings or murder cases. The guy seemed quite something.</p><p><em>Like Sherlock</em>, he found himself remembering the old pre-war collection of books he was going through recently.</p><p>After her story ended they all decided that meeting the man would be the best first course of action, soon making their way past the road that led through to the forward wall, the gate still weakly manned in the early breeze. The road from then on was empty, the strange-looking synth households to his left further, visible in their grandiosity and ergonomic design as they moved towards the colony.</p><p><em>People could learn someone from them,</em> he found himself saying mostly to himself.</p><p>The three were rounding another corner, this one outside Goodneighbor proper where the streets grew uneven, the darkened tents all around them seemed all too familiar in the symmetrical patterns they had been set up in, Cait led them onward, walking at their front. From here the bustle of a growing settlement could be heard, the mass of people gathering at the work corners and the food tents at this hour.</p><p>Their paths soon morphed as they walked eastward, the loose soil soon giving way to stoned paths neatly pressed in, here with the distinguished paths making their way across the winding roads became easier, clear directions at every four-way junction, roads that mostly ran straight most directions. They went further inside the colony, Cait having told them about the storied hall in the center where Orion lived and where Nick had been staying apparently. The road brought on more signs of orderly life, the strange white walls that trapped various mechanized sounds coming from within, no wonder also housing the people busy in whatever they endeavored towards. A few quickly fleeting souls moving past, offering the quickest of glances towards the three past.</p><p>The main hall was before them soon enough, the two-storied building had a balcony that led into a room upstairs through a transparent sliding door. He saw Tom frown up at that design, Cait already reaching for the door before turning to them once. At Tom's nodding head and his apprehensive look, the door slid open, revealing a clear scene of a neatly put-together room; the couches looked inviting, and a fireplace to one side that slowly creaked out wooden embers once in a while. The walls were light shades of green and blue, mild in texture and infinitely fine, an alien design to be sure. Moving forward he saw Cait take a few steps up the circular stair that ran upward to the right. Just then, from the door to the further left; a man then appeared, slowly taking them all in before nodding and coming close, "Please, take a seat. Orion and his Uncle will be with you shortly.” the man spoke as he bowed politely.</p><p><em>Uncle?</em> Arcade was starting to feel lost, looking at Tom's way who just gave him the, "I know and I don't get it “look.</p><p>Cait had her legs folded, looking out the window that was knee height from what he could see, a large hollow frame that used a transparent screen to fill the wall, a show of children in the building next door, a school of some kind? They waited for a few more minutes, Arcade taking in the room he was in more detail this time, noticing the walls that were mostly devoid of any adornment but a simple clock with a flowing second hand that made no sound as it counted the time pass.</p><p>The steps came softly at first, rising then as one pair became two. Arcade soon enough recognizing the fedora-wearing synth from the hall, a hairless man was beside the fellow; draped in plain cotton down to his knees on his right, feet naked below; Orion.</p><p>"Tom, so good of you to grace my humble abode, and your friends, of course", Orion's boisterous voice called out to them, coming close and meeting Arcade by the gaze; gray eyes that seemed to look into him, seeing him for what he was, a knowing smile came over the stolid face, hard and somehow still young, ageless as finally put it, just how Nate had told him.</p><p><em>"He's a mystery, Arcade. None of the synths remember seeing him before, or know where he came from or anything about him really.” </em>Arcade remembered Nate's words, meeting the man's eyes as he spoke. They had all sat down again, the newly arrived pair sat opposite him as Tom who sat to his right watched closely.</p><p>"Arcade, a pleasure to meet you. Commendable work on our little Whisper, we were going to send in Talos", turning to Cait for a spell as he went on, "a bright lad as you would have observed but, ah, I suppose nothing was lost and everything possible was done, even synths are mortal, as you know", Arcade nodded, at this point no longer surprised to find out the bald man knew his name, Tom had warned him of strange things around these parts. People knowing more than they let on, more than they should or could know.</p><p>Cait then spoke up unexpectedly, "Come on Arcade, we're wasting time here. Spit out whatcha' ya know, we have somewhere to be", face suddenly flushed red for some reason. What a strange woman, Arcade found himself wondering. He was looking her way now, leaning back, legs folded, she seemed determined, the silver-eyed synth only smiled. Offering his and the older introductions to Tom and the rest as he soon started asking questions beyond.</p><p>"But of course, the prosthetics. I wish for your success" he turned from Cait, looking back at him and speaking, "I trust you are capable of fine motor surgery, I would only wish the best for Whisper."</p><p>Arcade opened his mouth, an entire lower limb was a novel challenge for him, thankfully having preserved the leg would mean a path to a stable prosthetics connection was possible yet but still the complexities, he grimaced. Another problem he had compartmentalized somewhere further back. A sea of nerve endings to configure, it would take days, weeks maybe. And in all that time he would have to keep her suspended, a living hell if he knew one, only that he did as he heard Tom speak up.</p><p>His silvery arm was raised sleeveless before the sitting kin, "Generation Four Mk35, parallel nerve matrix configured to sub-two twenty nano." He lowered his hand, "pip-boy integration, adrenal control and one hell of a punch", he paused, "if anyone can do the procedure, it's Arcade." Tom ended by saying, leaving House's direct audio inputs during the grueling three-day operation out of the embellished story.</p><p>"I see. Facilitating, you are as machine as you are a man then." an inquisitive gaze towards Tom as he sat back straight on the couch while making the observation.</p><p>He saw Tom shift, "It's just an arm.", Tom replied quietly in ridicule.</p><p>"And yet a vital piece of you no doubt, but, that pipboy of yours." the man smiled a cool, knowing smile, something dreadful like to Arcade's guts. "It seems", he paused, "refurbished, pray do tell how you managed to self detonate a live pipboy while wearing it at the same time." coolly bringing the conversation to a pause.</p><p>He felt the couch heave up a bit as he saw Cait lean in, feet flat on the ground. Arcade just added it to the list. Just who was this synth?</p><p>"It's a hilarious story, I'll tell you sometime," Tom said dryly in his practiced, patient tone. There had been a time when bullets would fly before words were ever even a consideration. The man had grown over the years, a once boy now grown into something hard, and tired. Behind a clean face and those trained killer eyes he could see the sleepless nights and the fading of spirit in the man, the topic was one rarely broached, especially by him of all people.</p><p>The bald man only smiled, having been done with his games for now; he rose. The older synth had been quiet until then, still watching them three with those shining yellow balls for eyes. Eying them two mostly, even Arcade got that suspicious gaze that was generally only reserved for Tom in these situations.</p><p><em>A detective, huh?</em> He wondered, looking at those yellow eyes that met his, from the corner he saw Tom calmly approach the synth as he began to speak.</p><p>"Mr. Valentine", his friend spoke, bringing the synth's gaze onto him, "Nick told me you might have some information regarding a certain Diamond City resident? The one related to the attack found in the undercity?"</p><p>"Yes and call me Nick", the man seemed amiable enough, a tone quite unlike his kin who fussed over something at the far end of the room, working on something as he then stalked out the living room out the left door. The older synth before him leaned in, coming close as he spoke, "Well the guy was a nutcase, one of the usual crazies around the slums mostly, you wouldn't want to get lost there at night lemme tell ya. Anyway, the guy goes missing sometime between the big bang and a letter that arrived for him like two weeks ago, some deceased relatives out west or something. Now usually, if you don't have a signpost that says 'my place' somewhere in the city then letters like those just end up wiping someone's ass down the bureaucratic pipe chain but this one came with caps and a lot of it. Since there was no law regarding this specific instance of events; the money went into finding the poor fellow, so they hired me."</p><p>Arcade listened to the words, an aged voice with a trained cadence, rising and falling as the detective pulled them all in.</p><p>"So, have you found anything?" Tom asked slowly once the man had stopped speaking.</p><p>"Without a place to start looking it's going to be tough. We have blood samples and DNA but that won't get us anywhere. We need to retrace his steps. Maybe find out about those stolen explosives too." the man ended quietly, looking intently at Tom. Arcade saw his friend take a moment to digest what he had heard, a bit troubled at the recent revelation for a brief moment.</p><p>"Well, I suppose you have nothing then."Tom said quietly after, meeting the yellow gaze, "I was expecting better from Diamond City's finest."</p><p>The gray chapped face twisted into a grin, "Heh. Never said nothing, kid.", he said, reaching into an inner pocket and pulling out a dog tag around a silvery beaded chain, the chain had a name tag as well, the detective reached it, twisting his hand and bringing it up.</p><p>"Melted the name of it, not sure how but" he paused, yellow eyes gazing at the unusually cast piece of metal, A sudden heartening that had left one side a molten mess while the other side still only registering the change in entropy. Liquid magnesium, only one thing burnt like that and stuck while it was at. Cooled and gray, now the piece of metal smooth with small bumps of cooled metal bubbling craters and mounds over one side of it.</p><p>Tom took it off him when the man passed it over, looking intently as it was not too dissimilar to Tom's own tags. And hers too, Arcade found himself thinking, stopping himself he turned to Cait to distract his mind, her eyes were outside watching the rows of children sat quietly in the room next door, no doubt puzzled at this set of actions.</p><p>"It's Eastern Chantries, obviously. There's a code punched in with every name, the melting process would compress and expand the metal irregularly, but a resonance scan should reveal the code clearly enough. I'd need a metallurgical expert to assess the readings.” he paused, turning the piece over and running his pinky over it slowly many times over, "The punches on these tags are made by numbered pins sized differently, it seems they do it the same way over this side too."</p><p>Arcade saw the detective massage his smooth chin, giving a nod slowly as further words were exchanged, Tom deciding it best to keep the melted off dog tag to himself to which the detective readily agreed. Seeming somewhat impressed at the fellow he conversed with, which was fair Arcade supposed; most did consider the Lion to be nothing but a brainless brute of the wastes, an image of the man crafted completely out of the man's own control.</p><p>As Arcade looked about he saw the tall man in the white gown motion towards him. Cait was busy looking out the windows; fully engrossed while Tom was busy with Nick. Arcade nodded to the man far away, rising and meeting Tom's eyes once as he made his way over to the door to the left.</p><p>"Ah. So good of you to come, I'm preparing some pork in a special sauce of my own design. Come and help me with the protein, would you?" the tall man leaned against the door, an easy smile on his face while they were alone there. Arcade only nodded, understanding some of what the man had said. Following him revealed a silver scope of culinary tools and utensils. On the fore was a counter that ran along one side of the broad window that was above. Arcade was dumbstruck, was what living inside the Institute had been like?</p><p>Orion turned around, finding him at the mouth of the door still, he paused, looking around, "Something the matter, Arcade?" the bald man asked.</p><p>Arcade only shook his head slowly, trying to bring his eyes back from everything that was in the room, having no words to give. As the doctor approached the counters before him he saw myriad colors of what appeared to be vegetables and fruits. The tall man wielded a sharp, pointing knife and made mince of the odd ingredients in the bowl. Arcade was glued at this point. The process took about a score of minutes, the spectacled man wasn't sure or cared, and he watched the tall man deftly chop out each of those strange tubers and gourds and fleshy caches of liquid. Each one he called out before diving them into a hundred pieces each. The skillet beside them appeared smooth and dark with a layer of clear liquid which seemed to be something too thick to be water, releasing the tiniest of bubbles to the surface. Seed oil, the man had explained, Arcade only dumbly nodding as was becoming something of a habit at this point.</p><p>"The sauce then, yes?'' The man didn't wait once all the ingredients had been prepared, dropping it with one smooth sweep on the wooden flat board and with a vicious sizzle the skillet rang out, a bottle emerged from some cabinet in the counter below some time after, the contents of the pan somewhat browned. A swirl of the stuff and the pan lit up in strange flame, Arcade whirled back in fright. The man only smiled without looking his way, composing himself he came back. Smelling the distinct burnt smell of alcohol and the aroma that it accompanied.</p><p>"Red wine, cuts the roughness out of those earthy vegetables, the key is to find a balance for the pork to rest in ", then tossing the contents of the utensil by the handle a few times to bring it down. Salt came next apparently and then some other alien words for spices he didn't quite make out in time. The knob was then finally turned down after a generous amount of water was poured in, the even fire from the stove diminished while the pan was lidded.” the man had finished then turned to Arcade.</p><p>"It should take about half an hour, come, and let us procure the pork."</p><p>They went through the kitchen door out into the bright daylight, walking over a few more structures to enter a long hallway-looking building. As Arcade followed the man he saw a strange sight, birds and beasts he had only seen or heard mention in books and old holotapes of old were before him, all alive and in sheds or cages. Beyond the animals came the indoor gardens, rows upon rows of something green or blue or red dotting the same-heightened plants all healthy and green, he saw similarly clothed men and women busy at work, cutting, tending, or fidgeting with the roots of plants not planted yet. No one regarded their master or leader at their passing, Arcade noticed.</p><p>"Come in through here," Orion said as he took him below through a stairwell built into the wall between the two farms that met. Lit up by fluorescence strips that ran down the brick steps. Old world bricks, he noticed, no doubt making use of the surrounding architecture to its best ability.</p><p>The caverns within seemed to be some sort of underground tomb, now cleared and cleaned along with a carpet running over the floor; above the flat surface were some rows of kegs and barrels down to one side. On the other, he saw wooden shelves with diamond-patterned wooden wedges that each housed a bottle running high up to the ceiling.</p><p>Orion led him through to the other side where a strange animal was before him, soon Arcade realizing that it was of a kind that he had already seen above.</p><p>"A pig. I want you to kill it, Arcade", a knife was extended towards him, hilt first, his words were whispers heard only by him.</p><p>Arcade turned to him, "You want me to get an animal?" he asked, taking the knife Orion was handing him.</p><p>The man didn't meet his eyes, almost shyly he finally said, "Yes. You see, I do not kill."</p><p>They were about halfway through the process, the strange animal had died quickly, Arcade knew how way around wasteland critters well enough. This animal though seemed to have marbled red flesh that seems rich.</p><p>Is this what people used to eat before? He found himself glumly wondering, catching a look over to the man to his side, watching intently, eyes melancholic somehow.</p><p>"I hope you did not take offense at my probing, Arcade. A man of your special pedigree must obviously be qualified, but still." he paused, looking at him, "Whisper has suffered much. I had to make sure."</p><p>My pedigree? Arcade worried, considering just how much the strange synth truly knew about his troubled past.</p><p>The doctor stopped, looking at Orion who gazed down at the skinned animal, now portions of meat being extracted off the dead carcass onto a silver pot. Arcade nodded, telling him about Cait's revelation. The somber synth only nodded, was that shame in his face? He didn't meet his eyes, "I saw everything while I was there, you know? I was kept apart, you see. To observe, to learn from mistakes, perhaps?.", silvery eyes met his, a rueful smile, "Once the place fell apart I was alone above ground quickly enough, a few days topside and I concluded that a boat leaving up North was the best bet for all synths." shaking his head he then went on, smiling mostly to himself, "Oh how wrong I was. The place is full to bursting, Arcade, if only had you seen it. Tensions with the humans at an all-time high too, I can assure you.” he turned, quietly taking the utensil in his arms as Arcade nodded and dropped the knife, finding a running line of water deep in the basement. Washing his hands with the soap kept aside he then turned, following Orion above.</p><p>"So, you came back?" Arcade asked, not sure what to make of all of it. Arcadia was only a passing story to most folk's mind along the road to Boston, though all simple lived folks still knew of an old fishing town north across the waters nearby it. Arcadia, funny name I suppose, his mind wandering.</p><p>"Yes, I had to. It was", the strange synth paused, turning while they were on the stairs leading to the farms, "a calling." the rest of the way wordless as Arcade probed no more.</p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Cait</span> </strong>
</p><p>The blond girl was raising her hand, a show of pale limb that rose among a group of about thirty as she stood then and spoke something, too far and among layers of walls in between for Cait to actually hear. She turned her head then, having had enough of it all just then.</p><p>"Tom", she began, catching herself and going deliberately over her words, "I thought we were leaving? We could be across the city and over Malden by sundown. We don't get there sitting around", Tom looked her way, he had been sucked into one of Nick's stories, the mood around the room of one inquisitive probing and hence leaving Cait entirely out of the loop. The man looked her way, his face really did seem softer once it was clean, she found herself and went on, "We got the tags, right? Let's go then."</p><p>Just then Orion walked out, Arcade beside him. The man had a tray in his hand, coming to each of them as Arcade took a seat beside her, serving a cup of something steaming gently to her hands, she saw those moon eyes, she didn't trust them one bit.</p><p>"Tea. Always helps with conversations.” the bald man spoke as he sat down beside Nick.</p><p>She took a sip, the uproar of before passing as Orion was explaining how troubling the whole situation with the pods left him.</p><p>"A grave tragedy indeed, we here allow free choice. To not have it would be troublesome for those who wish to forget. No synth should have to hide their identity, if forgetting the past would allow them to rejoin society, well, I see nothing wrong with it.", the man paused, looking her way, "Whisper", he said slowly, "she was scheduled for the wipe. She's one among many, others have undergone the same. They are better now", he ended by saying.</p><p>"So you don't have blueprints for the pods? You can't reverse engineer it?" the doctor asked.</p><p>"No, Arcade. In spite, all that is possible thanks to the science discovered below; the memory pods remain an enigma still, the few that were acquired from the military before the war went defunct in the early years after the bombs fell." he sipped then went ahead, "However, Whisper's leg. I was only probing to find if the doctor was up to the task", he looked around, eyeing Tom then, "your friend is an interesting travel companion to be sure, Tom", he said with a gentle smile.</p><p>"Haven't gotten tired of him for over five years now, imagine that." that dog replied, in that grin of his. Finding all this too tiresome to stand much longer she rolled her eyes, wondering when they would finally get to leave.</p><p>Chuckling, "I see.” Orin sipped and met her eyes, Cait found himself doing the same, somewhat caught off guard at the gentle giant's gaze. The taste was light, something strange like. Usually, stuff she drank never went down without some fight, now even her tongue felt the clear liquid that lacked hardness to the pallet. Something that tasted like flavored purified water, only somehow lighter. The door opened behind her, from the outside road came Curie; walking in padded armor of the modified synth variety and glistening in a reddish flush that left her as she panted, slowly calming as she came closer to the group with a smile.</p><p>"Curie," Orion said brightening up, sitting up straighter.</p><p>The young girl walked familiarly to the bald man, entwining arms and leaning over for a quick welcoming kiss on the lips. She watched wide-eyed along with the rest in the room except Nick, she supposed he would know about such things. Even had Tom looked surprised, eyes that caught hers? Cait replied in kind to the smile on his face in private, forgetting her frustrations for a second. No shit, they were actually a thing.</p><p>After some more time had passed Orion went back over to the far side of the room, bringing back another cup for the newly arrived girl. She took it familiarly as she sipped, eyes cast over something on her pipboy. Nick had moved to sit to her left now as Orion sat beside Curie and brought the paused conversation back on track.</p><p>"As I was saying, Whisper's prosthetics. I think something can be done about that.” the man went quiet, sipping with eyes still into the distance, suddenly speaking up, "Arcade, meet me tonight. I suppose I'll dust off the old workshop and look up some old notes."</p><p>The doctor beside her looked surprised, "So, you mean you can make it?” asking in wonder.</p><p>"Yes, most generation two models were purely mechanical but for the most complex organs, the first generations nothing but simple axle and pulley, prosthetic research down there is what gave rise to synth research. An extension of labor, we were never made to be human." he ended by saying.</p><p>"And here I thought the synths were an experiment on human consciousness", the doctor said jokingly.</p><p>"Oh, you are too romantic, doctor. But regardless, you wouldn't be wrong to think that", he slowly nodded his head, a strange smile on his face that left Cait watching him, not sure if the man really was a friend for a moment, "there was one man who dreamed, of more, of something great. Someone whose father" he slowly turned to Nick, lightening his voice, "Uncle Nick here is a good friend of actually." He ended, looking at Nick to her left who only shrugged and sipped his tea, speaking out of his cup then, "It's a long story."</p><p>"One we absolutely do not have the time for right now", Orion adamantly said with some gusto, standing then and going over to one side to resume speaking again, "Now, since I have convinced you all to stay awhile longer and made your plans for the day redundant" he paused, looking at Cait's way. She could only nod, supposing they didn't have to go if Whisper could walk again with his help, apart from the rare times when something other crawled out onto that face, the man otherwise seemed harmless. Finally, she decided he could be a bit queer but otherwise seemed to have a good heart, Cait could tell, she had known so few of them.</p><p>"The meat will be done soon.” he said then, clasping his hands from where he stood, "So, who's hungry, then?"</p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Nate</span> </strong>
</p><p>The Sole Survivor passed across the scenery of the dead, metal clasped limbs lay strewn about in a show of carnage past in the dark uneven interiors of the ill-lit caverns around him. The smell was of burnt flesh and walls full of a wild spattering of blood dried hours ago. Ada moved behind him, hearing the quiet mechanical gait keeping pace as he turned a corner, there were more bodies in the caves out where we were now; going over to a still-burning fire at the end of the cave he found the scenery here to be a whirlwind of force as well. Body flailed about, magazines mostly full and raiders among them most still sleeping where they lay dead, guts out in the darkened interior.</p><p>"Ada, mark this.” he had finally spoken in about an hour after what they both had seen in the village, "Minutemen acquisition runs, a lot of untouched supplies here."</p><p>"Copy that, sir. Do you want me to notify the Railroad too?" the deep womanly voice asked from behind him, "This does look like reanimated work."</p><p>Nate had to agree to that observation, he turned, nodding to her as he looked some more among the dead. Any clue or step or something in this cavernous hole with about a dozen dead. "Not for now, let's make sure first." He looked around, bringing his pipboy up as he bent his elbow around the dark surrounding, the glistening red was overwhelming to his senses in the oppressive enclosure but Nate persevered through the gore and smell to look for any clues. The bodies and the scene had a frenetic pace to it, he saw four-legged prints of blood on the high rocks above that disappeared to then lead to a pile of the dead some yards ahead, a few more points on four before they vanished again to another piling of dead all leading out from the cave through which he had come in. The still undisturbed fire appeared at the end of the cave, food and drink half untouched and one lone casing resting in a small pool of blood. He had retraced the second time to the far end of the cave, sure of the origin of this carnage at this point. It turned here, he found himself realizing.</p><p>Nate moved closer to the small circle of crackling wood, receding the darkening pipboy as he kneeled and took the wet silvery cylinder off the pool of red. Motioning to Ada who was behind her he then rose aside, letting her do her thing. Soon the Aussultron lady stood with a low hum taking samples of the small pool and running preliminary tests on the casing he had found.</p><p>He stopped her when she approached the rest of the blood splashes around them, "We're done here, Ada. Let's go." he told her, wanting to be out of this place yesterday.</p><p>"So, where to next?" Ada asked.</p><p>Nate looked the assultron's way, thinking for a second after finding nothing more among the dead; he started heading out, Ada following out the dark cave. They were in a cave off of a clearing northward that would easily be missed if one were to walk past through the other direction, in the afternoon haze past the darkness he could see the gray outcropping of titanic igneous rocks buried deep within, no doubt part of a greater mass cracked open after malevolent tectonic shifts inside the earth. Now, thousands of years later the cave stood as a raider hideout only half a mile out from the settlement he had started from earlier today, a gathering of about thirty or so. His thoughts had been grim all morning, not believing him to hold back after what he had seen. Ada had been quiet all along too, that way she used to get at facing loss and grief, speaking only when spoken to, for now, grief had a strange effect on her, sometimes feeling sorrow as deep as humans, as he had learned.</p><p>They walked back to the dead hamlet, bodies were strewn about, uneaten these, for it, seemed the beast had been occupied, or hurt. A single beast, his analytical mind showed him, distancing itself from the carnage and gore around him. A path in red that had started from Old Sally's Taphouse, the tuber vodkas had been a specialty here, he remembered. Then walking past blood-splattered walls outside from the establishment ran across as more bodies added blood to fuel the show of gore as he moved further into the hamlet.</p><p>Moving past he found the beast at the end of the old tree in the center atop a hill. A scene of rail spikes protruding flat side upward on an emaciated body appeared as they approached the old hill over</p><p>Nate saw it starting to move, trying at least, as it struggled to find purchase from the fatal hold that held it, an almost naked man, bullet holes and blood not its own over skin that had seemed to cure, thin, and gangly, maybe not strong enough to lift even half of his own weight when he had still lived. He saw mouth-frothing and eyes that had gone milk-white. Those thin arms had stopped bleeding too, flexing with a force that swayed the old banyan on the hill in the center. Its trellis-like root vines came down around him and became little pendulums against the furor of the beast lap trapped.</p><p>The sum was still above them, a day halfway at its zenith. He moved closer, bringing the old world 911 to its head as Ada watched silently. A few suppressed bullets against the bridge of that rotting nose and the beast then slept silently forever.</p><p>A few hours had passed the yellow of the afternoon leaking out to bring out the blue and then black soon later; Nate and Ada working together to bring over villagers had been tagged and finally assembled in makeshift pyre out of some wood and gasoline. The large group of burning bodies against the afternoon sky as Nate and Ada stood by watching. The empty shacks and boarded-up houses in the ghost town now only home to dead and decaying raiders that Nate had not touched.</p><p>In the silence, he tried to focus, piece together the events of the day in a way that made sense. A kind of mechanical motion to his actions that handily separated itself from emotions as of now, for now, he needed to think.</p><p>After moving past Boston's stony features they had soon reached the wilderness of the Commonwealth, the four-hour trek from there had been a quiet one, no raider gangs or any wild game in sight, rats no doubt hibernating still. Suddenly his eyes caught something, a motion in the distance. Rushing in to move past Ada and the pyre to find a dashing figure, the armor it wore hid its form against a cloak that was also draped over it. Nate chased, finding nothing as he was out in a clearing here beyond a small hill, nothing but small shrubs and dry cracked earth around him.</p><p>"I'm a friend.” he said out loud, knowing the person to be close by somewhere, "I saw what happened here, a monster by the hill tree, I'm sure you saw it, too."</p><p>Feet from behind him, "Turn around", a woman's voice, young and somewhat terrified, he found a cowboy hat on a pale little thing, lean and steady as she tightly held onto the laser musket fully charged up. Beyond the red hue of the ionizing particles he saw the heart-shaped face beyond, she had been here before, he could tell from the weariness on her face, from what she had seen.</p><p>"Did you spike it to the tree?"</p><p>She didn't say anything; eyes aimed at him as her grip was still, soon Ada's mechanical gait approached, and the stranger's eyes darting for a second over to his left.</p><p>"Hold, Ada. She's a Minuteman, at ease."</p><p>The woman frowned at him, closely examining his armor again, Nate didn't blame her, and he might as well look like any bloodthirsty bounty hunter out in the Commonwealth, foot traffic and outsiders becoming a common occurrence in a post-Institute world. His mean-looking piece strapped to his back didn't invoke any friendliness either. He might as well be a prospector or a bounty hunter in those long jackets.</p><p>Nate was beginning to find words to calm her down when she spoke up, more calmly this time, "You're the General.", the woman said, lowering her gun. Sighing she then checked the cartridge, finding it one cell short she clipped it out and slung her rifle back, fidgeting with the cartridge, "you sent for back-up yet?" she spoke, not looking up.</p><p>"There's no one to back up, Miss", he trailed off, remembering all the dead raiders down the bowels of the earth, dark hair ponytail around her face, worn garments foreign to her tender features.</p><p>A moment passed while she considered something, finally deciding to speak, "Holiday. Ness Holiday." she said, looking up, eyebrows fidgeting as if on habit.</p><p>"Right, Miss Holiday. Were you here when the raiders came?" Nate asked calmly, trying to piece the events of the day in order.</p><p>Frowning, "How'd you know about the raiders?" she asked suspiciously.</p><p>Nate walked a bit to her left, pointing over the clearing they were in, "Old cave down by the eastern ridge half a mile west out the bay. Pretty much the same in there as in that settlement here. Now, tell me, did the monster come after the raiders or before?"</p><p>She was quiet, her face a map of wonder, tucking a few wet strands that had escaped the tight knot behind her unadorned ears as she soon spoke up, "I don't know. The raiders came in about a dozen from the west and the east; people weren't even sure what was happening before some had already died. The shooting almost immediately, some hid, others got out the way and acted dead. We took down a few coming in, the minutemen cadre", her voice caught, "my squad was at the northern gate then. We came in, saw a lot of dead people so we split up, we lost four there, the six of us still breathing; we started to look for survivors. Then we heard those screams."</p><p>The scenery had grown quiet around them in the present; the sun setting against his back as she finally got the cell into the cartridge and then brought her rifle back off the strap, loading it in.</p><p>"You couldn't put it down. It just kept coming. The nail gun was a lucky coincidence." she went quiet, not recounting the rest as the three living people for miles out went back to the still burning pyre. Winds blew now, strong and violent as warm air flushed into the cool atmosphere, calling winds from further out. He looked towards her, her accent placed her as a local, that was obvious but he hadn't seen her around, the dark hair was out that knot now, a looser braid she finished in silence while turned around from him, then speaking up suddenly bringing Nate back.</p><p>"I'm after your time, Garvy picked me, First Responders," she called out from her back, a moment more as she then turned around to face him, hair now cupping that face, the braid came over to one shoulder.</p><p>Nate nodded, quite impressed inward. A First Responder, the elite squads that patrolled around the Commonwealth's routed settlements under Minutemen jurisdiction. An attack this close to the city and even having the First Responders had not been enough. Almost, she had made it through though.</p><p>The woman spoke again, "So, what now?" has turned around to face him and Ada as she came up to him. Looking around, weariness in those eyes. She had probably gone back to find gear, wearing some armored padrones and chest pieces now heavy in the setting sun and contrasting against her small frame. She looked at him, dark eyes considering, "I'll call this in I guess, and the closest radio with that kind of kick should be Goodneighbor."</p><p>Nick nodded, was about to approach the topic of escorting her over when she raised her hand, "I'll be fine, don't worry General. I'm from around here.” she eyed him. Nate just shrugged to Ada as she made her farewells and looked one last time over at the pyre as she moved on. The minutemen did not have tags; memories of the dead would have to suffice.</p><p>"Onward then?"</p><p>Nate nodded, turning around and following the guide of Aussultron’s nocturnal eyesight.</p><p>
  <strong> <span class="u">Tom</span> </strong>
</p><p>He entered after Arcade, the broad doctor clearing out of his vision soon enough to reveal the long dark table at the center of another opulent room the group entered into. Here was a window to one side mapping light shadows on a white, creaseless expanse of table cloth over the surface, six chairs carved out of the same wood as the table around it neatly placed.</p><p>Orion came up to him then, a gentle nudge from behind as his other arm motioned towards the head of the table, "Please", the man said amiably, "come sit."</p><p>Tom could only nod, having nothing worthwhile to reply. He saw Cait twirl around a few times, gasping softly and waiting upon the long painted vases on the corner, the deeply patterned carpet below, and the strange small statues of stone that decorated the tall cabinet as well the short ones set against some of the empty walls around the room. He saw Curie smile and pull the dazed woman gently to the window side chairs as both women sat down, a hushed conversation between them. Tom figured they knew each other, but not that well from what he could tell. He saw Arcade and Nick do the same, both men seemingly not that surprised by what they saw. He found Arcade's gaze when he searched for it and his raised eyebrows gave him the, "I know and I don't get it", look. Tom could only sigh and wonder what Arcade had seen that topped this.</p><p>
  <em>Lovely.</em>
</p><p>Orion sat down last, pulling his chair in silently. A couple of women garbed in those same clothes all around the synth colony brought out plates for the six of them; pearly white in complexion with a wavy pattern surrounding it and bordered off with golden linings. Orion nodded to the pair of women as they quietly made their way past the door to the man's left who sat opposite him. Tom looked around for a second, seeing Curie start almost immediately exchanging whispers with an attentive Orion, who had leaned in, completely engrossed in her words. She did seem worried; the old doctor and the den being the subject of the conversation, he bet.</p><p>Nick who was sitting next to him caught his gaze then, the detective looking his way, "So, what'd ya think?" The man asked with a smile, quietly for only the two of them.</p><p>Tom's small words of amazement and complaints regarding how clean everything was made the fraying detective chuckle a bit, taking a sip of water from the clear glass that had been brought out next by the same woman. As his eyes trailed over to his left where he saw Cait's head bowed down, concentrating on something. She sat fiddling around with one of the forks, gripping it like a knife as only she knew how. She turned and found him looking; Tom quietly reached down to the cutlery on either side with both hands, letting her know the ways. She was focused, wide-eyed, and nodded not looking his way. He put them down, smiling at the woman who was busy learning to imitate him. Ruefully looking at her face, the red strands of hair swaying in the breeze out those clear half-open windows that slide open sideways. <em>Rose would have liked her</em>, he found himself thinking about the older woman out of nowhere, his smile dying promptly as he turned from her and found Orion looking his way, beginning to speak his mind from what Tom could tell.</p><p>"Tom.", the man of the house spoke, bringing all five pairs of eyes to him, "I would ask for your help.", the man said, looking bashful and downwards, "I am called upon by entities I had wished to avoid", taking a sip and then licking his lips before continuing, "but it seems things have come to a head. With the 'reanimated', as you have so imaginatively coined those" he paused, a real expression of disgust so strong Tom had not expected it, "those monsters with tampered modules, yes" he slowly said, raising a hand to the smooth cloth, "they are a problem and must be dealt with."</p><p>"Tampered?" Arcade asked," how can that be?"</p><p>"I fear that precisely, Arcade", the man turned to his left to face the doctor, looking worried, "Someone must have acquired reset codes for those synths, that would be one way, the least invasive, and most likely the only one.", be paused, wondering as both hands came on the table joined, "that would explain the attacks, synth prefrontal access is a common first weapon in the matters of the Institute past", he looked sideways, somewhat ashamed, Tom felt. The man went on, "But those beasts are nothing like I have ever seen or worked on to be concerned, whoever did this must be an Institute member, someone at the top." His chin came closer to his folded fingers." There's another way.” he said quietly.</p><p>Tom spoke up then asking, "What way?" Orion turned his way, eyes glazing over as something worked itself out in his mind.</p><p>"The halos.” he spoke softly, looking at him, more quickly then, "If a synth was taken back down to the halo and disassembled, as one did for modifications or repairs; the reset codes could be extracted that way." He finished wide-eyed and sitting back on the chair, losing some of his composure.</p><p>Tom did not like the implications of what the man had said, the room had gone quiet, the bright sunlight room appearing somehow faint as Tom instinctively reached for the compass where it always was, heavy and still, Is this what you want?</p><p>"Wait, what's a halo?" Arcade asked, frowning, then disbelievingly went on, "And you're saying someone has been going down there?" A substantial bit of alarm in the man's voice.</p><p>Orion turned to him, looking below he shrugged, "The halos were where we weaved new life into existence, Arcade. It is a beautiful device, probably men greatest.” He paused them, going on a low voice then when confronted, "A lot of people come and go from the old ruins, I'm sure some of you have already seen things."</p><p>A voice beside him spoke up then, "Those boxes", she went on "and the stuff they're carryin' to the compound", Cait spoke up, frowning then at Orion.</p><p>The man solemnly nodded to her, then sighing he went on where he had left off, looking resolute again as he answered meeting the doctor's gaze, "Look around you Arcade, where do you think all this came from? Knowledge and the means to replicate it are the greatest things we can preserve. Nathan will always be remembered as a hero for sparing the Institute, he doesn't know of the gift he has given to the world."</p><p>Tom saw Orion looking at Cait's way; eyes widened in surprise, from her radiated rage, eyes questioning his hypocrisy. Whisper, of course, Tom found himself remembering the dark of night. Once the exertions of passion had been done away with she had talked for hours, Tom quietly listening, her pinching him from time to time, making sure he hadn't fallen asleep.</p><p>"No", Tom spoke up, "I'm wagering he doesn't, but neither will we until we check this place out"</p><p>Arcade looked to him and then Orion back, "But how's that even possible?" Arcade chimed in "Isn't the place like 200 feet below sea level?" the confused doctor asked.</p><p>Orion was quiet for a while, then a smile to the one who had asked as he spoke into the room, "Teleportation, my friend."</p><p>Arcade looked wide-eyed, even Tom took a moment to consider the validity of the words he was hearing. From the corner of his eye, he could see no surprise on the faces of the others who say and listened, looking sometimes his way or towards the one opposite him.</p><p>Tom didn't really know what to say to that, only mildly remembering a dreamlike memory of his time trapped in Big Mountain as he nodded, then a look towards Arcade that was getting all too familiar by now, finally he asked, "Railroad knows about any of this?"</p><p>Orion shook his head, revealing to Tom the reasons for the man's worries, "That is why I have avoided them this long, we have been extracting resources from the old Vault downtown as well. It was never finished hence many life-sustaining technologies remain intact to be reverse engineered to outright used. The Railroad'', he shook his head, "I considered them once a net positive to the world", he looked out the windows, the sunlight now slanting steeper as the rays now jutted onto the floor, leaving the room cooler and dark, "violent thoughts are bubbling in the minds of a sizable sum down there, ideas of superiority or supremacy, control and a new age of man." he looked around, Tom keenly noticing the equal split among the races sat there. And then the door opened, wafting in smell at once.</p><p>So a cover, Tom had to admit, it was smart in a way, though the whole thing stood upon a web of well-connected lies and secrets likely to be unraveled. He started to wonder what the people of the Commonwealth would make of the scavenger king of this new kingdom.</p><p>Orion spoke then, his mind being brought back to the present, "There is another matter of equally great import", he looked Curie's way who had just finished exchanging hushed words with the pale, older woman with glasses, she turned to him and then all of them, a bridging smile that brought out the words next, "Dr. Amari, her cancer has become overwhelming", she looked towards Tom, all those best-laid plans to waste.</p><p>She went on, "The doctor must be taken to the halo as well, and nothing more can be done for her now."</p><p>Orion saw Arcade not understand, Tom was quiet, understanding it only all too well, <em>Well, well, well...</em></p><p>"You", he began, Tom saw even Nate and Cait were wondering now, looking at Arcade, "you want to transfer her mind to a synth. Don't you?" He asked quietly.</p><p>In the quiet hour of dawn, the master of the house was left revealed; he nodded, bowing to the straight-backed doctor who was still in shock. His hand folded grasped hers that had come over the forks. She looked at him and he supposed they were in love.</p><p>"And Whisper", Orion spoke up, "her work must be done there as well, I hope you haven't forgotten of your work tonight, Arcade."</p><p>The doctor shook his head, pronouncing platitudes and giving thanks. Tom smiled a bit, <em>The guy's having the time of this fucking life</em>, he realized, sipping the water.</p><p>"I shall have to dig up old Father's notes", he grimaced, "exhaustive, to say the least.” doing something with eyebrows that did not exist.</p><p>The Father, Nate's son. Arcade had told him little of the man out of time, or what his quest had been over this land. From what he could see the man had wiped out any threats to the land surgically. A war hero from the world before, his skills probably well suited to the region. <em>The Claw of Concord</em>, he found himself remembering a song, first among many to follow.</p><p>
  <em>"Rise oh dweller below, hummed wake the great claw of the wastes</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sent for a ragged band beset by the sleeping Claw of Concord.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>From a tomb far below, moving earth and stone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Came him from the vault below, come to the waking Claw of Concord."</em>
</p><p>A few minutes passed, the women coming over with plates and jugs for refills as they wordlessly darted from one person to the next.</p><p>"So, the teleportation device, it's inside that vault isn't it? Tom asked, bringing them to the earlier point; the vault they had been harvesting had run out, which made it the best place to hide something so flashy, he imagined. A plate was quickly and soundlessly placed before him by a long, slim white sleeve, the woman looking his way, dark pools on tanned, earthy skin mapped on a bony face, hair a show of dark curls set free. He saw those pearls as eyes gazed him down while she came and went away a moment later.</p><p>Orion smiled, "And they call the Courier a mindless murderer from the west", he went on, one of the women gave a chuckle and Orion met the bright curly-haired girl fondly like a brother, Tom noticing how candid Orion was with all his, what were they? Followers? Soldiers? His people?</p><p>"You are right, Tom. Vault 118 was exhausted months ago, now we harvest the old Institute, treasures that will last generations." He ended, bringing a whistle from Nick who had been quiet with arms folded, taking it all in.</p><p>The detective spoke up, a nodding grin on his face, "Now this just got very interesting" he turned to Orion, "Guess I owe you those candlesticks now." Orion bowed theatrically, upon further inquiry Tom realized that Orion had won the bet. <em>He knew I would come here, find him</em>, all the while the compass lay still, unspinning.</p><p>Tom brushed aside the small chatter after as he went on, "You still haven't told us how the reanimated came to be", he asked, finally piecing together some things in his head now, his mission and why he had started onto this path.</p><p>Orion was quiet at first, the pair who served them the meal moving out the same door first, "If I had to guess, a new reverie has probably been imprinted into the modules of all synths that exist today.” he paused, the food was before them and Orion looked around once a smile, "please, the meat is just right now."</p><p>He looked down at those words, on a sea of cloth the whole plate was radiating heat and smelling off those chunks of meat. Brazen and darkened on the flat sides, the cross-section cut showing even pink flesh under the charred coating, a glazed brown sauce of some consistency dressing it liberally as it was artfully dashed concentrically on the plate.</p><p>His hands moved first when he smelled some more. Yes, he was hungry, he suddenly realized.</p><p>In all the years apart from the affluent lofts and the sensible foods for the finer pallet had left him stunned, his senses harassed by the taste and the smell, taking him back to the younger days at the Ultra-Luxe or the solitary hotel rooms which rose in the Lucky 38.</p><p>Tom spoke slowly once he'd finished the plate an almost clean mess, "Orion that was the best thing my tongue ever tasted in a long while." He ended with reverence and a growing smile.</p><p>"I take that as high compliment, great Courier.", he bowed then speaking, "I know you have must have many questions, but first," he said brightening up, "you must try this ice cream it's" a knock came on the door to the dining room, making them all look at once. Tom was up out of his seat next when he saw the sliding door be pulled quickly open.</p><p>A dark man in a shaved for cut hairstyle and dark sunglasses with silver rims, an ear right to the side he saw with a cropped beard. The man was stalked by two more who wore those recognizable rod-lined vests.</p><p>The man before them was dressed quite differently, however, with a dark graying jacket tied down at the waist but extending down to his ankles. With glove tight and a mean-looking laser rifle with myriad modifications. Tom didn't have to look twice; he knew the man was a killer.</p><p>"Joker.", Orion said, having stood up now. Walking quickly to his left and coming beside Tom. The other members of the outfit stood outside the other room, quietly watching the scene develop. Tom quickly scanned the window outside to find no one standing outside. Would they come in alone? Tom only feared the unseen enemy at this point. Darting around at what weapons or weaknesses he could find.</p><p>The man named Joker spoke then, "Dez asked me to get you. Said you'd complied?" the man asked familiarly. He knew Orion well, Tom could tell. A concern in his voice somewhat, "Well, okay then. We should go, the others are gathering.” The man turned to him next, dark glasses that didn't really tell him where the man looked. That was always a bit of a problem.</p><p>"You, Courier. Dez wants to meet you too.” Joker said.</p><hr/><p>So, for anyone who's been keeping up and reading along; sorry y'all for the late upload. I was planning this out while also planning on writing a one-shot of some kind to gain traction. Anyways, Lemme knows what you think, really opening up the plot now, slowly.</p><p>Thanks again for reading: D</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Episode 5: Dead Men Walking</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Episode 5: Dead Men Walking</strong>
</p><p>
  <em>It is not a matter of permission or prohibition. He will suffer if he is sorry for his victim. Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart. The really great men must, I think, have great sorrows.</em>
</p><p>-Rodion Raskolnikov</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Tom </strong> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">2282, July 18th</span>
</p><p>He reached for the brown flap hung still and heavy before him, walking past the sea of bodied red below his ankles to quietly reach the south end of the open-roofed tent he found himself in. His path back had been one through a cleanroom further back at the end of the folds from where he had started, daintily maintained and stocked with food, water, books, and record tapes of many old tunes from different eras. The old man had a penchant for culture and the arts, it seemed.</p><p>He came out, Veronica standing outside in her T-60s parts; shining a peculiar orange in the afternoon glare. Tom looked up and saw the massive helmet staring him down until hissing soon appeared behind the enlarged construct. A moment passed, Vi was moving his way now, her brown leg wraps before his range of vision, suddenly realizing he was now on his knees, breathing hard still.</p><p>He felt her hand, a wet cloth to his face that made him turn; jerking for her wrist and gripping it too hard. He stopped at once when he saw her face; retracting at once he went to his feet, looking exasperated.</p><p>"I'm...I'm sorry." He said, seeing his own blood-dried boots below on the ground.</p><p>"It's fine." she quickly replied, a smile and her face came closer to his once again, the wet cloth softly patting down his cheeks as stood above her. Vi worked quietly for a second, and then asking once a cool breeze had just passed over the silent war camp, "So, he's dead?" She inquired under her breath, eyes not meeting his.</p><p>"Yes, but…", Tom explained it to her, her eyes going wide and then slowly nodding, washing away the bloodied cloth with fresh water before resuming her words, "I see." Going quiet again, now working over his other side after making him sit beside the great tent outside, the sun almost over the horizon as the day was coming to an end, "Are you hurt?" She asked, on her knees and buzzing to her other side, trying to get his eyes.</p><p>Tom shook his head, "No, not my blood", he looked up at her, her eyes still considering him, Tom could tell. What did she see in him? A monster? A killer? She nodded and Tom went on, "None of his either", his mind going back; remembering the resting man's face mapped serene and peaceful after a lifetime of conquest and blood, a final gift for Thomas beside his king-sized resting place, one for the of end of days, revealing all about his past, his father and his mother.</p><p>"We should take his body, to the other Fort.", Tom looked her way, her hand receding as he was starting to raise, Vi, getting up beside him as she nodded, starting to move towards the thick flaps that led within. He reached for her arm, getting it around his palm and making her turn, "Wait.", he paused, turning from the flaps, "Let me get him." Tom said hauntingly.</p><p>"Okay.", she frowned, getting her free and staring at him. <em>Yes, definitely a monster,</em> he realized. "We can tie him up to the suit." she went on, making Tom nod absentmindedly as he walked away from her quietly, soon back through the scenery of red and mounds of dead men, here in the back of the tent he was meeting the old, balding leader once again; reaching for his body, removing the few wires and pipes connecting him to the pre-war medical device and finding him not that heavy to carry.</p><p>An hour had passed, now back at the mouth of the river where the raft would lead then back to the Cove opposite from where they had approached the Fort. He turned to Vi, finding her moving in her armor and turning, the man tied to her back not being that much of a hindrance, "We'll have company", Tom said, turning away from her and reaching for his Bozar. The rifle long and gray came into his grip, him getting more accustomed to its kickback and overall weight over the week.</p><p>"We can leave him on the raft, get him back later," Vi said, moving to the wooden floater that was sturdy enough to handle the three of them plus the suit. Vi released the noose and pushed them through still waters, Tom crouching and pondering death in his musings looking over the southern beach that they steadily approached.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Piper </strong> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">2289</span>
</p><p>She was in the tub soaking lazily in warm, still, water then; hours after Nate had come by early in the morning to ask her out for breakfast. Already a bottle downed stood by an empty wine glass, the other room beyond the door a memory of fervor in hopes of penning down the last parts of her book and the recent hearings after the Boston Fire. Nate had seen those pages; the typewriter still hot and wet from the dark ink that filled white sheets, most kept in a stack neatly behind her disheveled self back when he had arrived that morning at her hotel room door.</p><p>An easy smile on that alert face, "Hey, um, you wanna get some breakfast?" Nate had asked, coming closer she had stood staring after reaching the door and finding no one outside, the man appearing almost out of nowhere.</p><p>She had stared for a second, and then speaking, "Nate. Come in." She remembered embarrassingly gawking for a while, turning halfway and speaking, "Give me a minute." She had replied, walking and letting him in; both of them entering as the door had closed behind Nate. Piper quickly moved to the mirror-table at the far corner on the other side of the room, quickly now as she tried to make herself presentable.</p><p>Nate had spoken up after a while, breaking the thickening ice, "I was going to Malden, to meet Isabel. See how she's been doing, you know?" He had said in a practiced cadence, standing then beside the table then.</p><p>"Is that <em>all </em>you're gonna do there?" she remembered asking him in the mirror, brushing her hair as her hat came off her to the side. The man was watching her reflection on the surface; she sighed inward and started fixing her eyes next. <em>That girl</em>, she never <em>did</em> like people visiting her. Except for Nate, of course, <em>that man</em>, she wandered back in her dark bathroom.</p><p>"What's this?" Nate was done watching her then, turning down to her table and reaching for a page as he asked.</p><p>"The hearings, it's a recording of the events;" she remembered replying, not looking his way.</p><p>He reading quietly for a second, and then speaking, "You have every word here." He said, sounding impressed for some reason.</p><p>She had been surprised by the fact that Nate <em>didn't</em>, the talks over by the green after the Boston Fire being a spicy affair, Ren standing about with a dozen men at each corner ready to shoot down factions and handle the darkening moods multiplying among the masses quickly.</p><p>She recalled at all having started with words and simple dialogue that had then quickly morphed into shouts and a stampede soon after. The fear being palpable in the air; the words of the mayor having mostly fallen on deaf ears and those lynch masters at the top rousing the masses working hence unabated.</p><p>She remembered reaching for the sheet he was grasping a few steps back, taking it from his hand and then looking up at him, "I'm sorry, I can't go with you now, I have work." her words of resignation plainly stated, motioning towards the table and reaching for the still burning stick on the ashtray, taking a drag.</p><p>"It's fine. I was just asking you for breakfast", he had replied, softening somewhat, looking rueful then, "You seem like you could use It.", she remembered him ending gently.</p><p>Picturing him more <em>physically</em> then; back in those ending days combat armor strapped onto old military under drapes. So he really <em>was</em> going out, no doubt Ada to watch his back. She recalled his face; already up from the looks of it. Or, maybe not slept at all? Those eyes of his were a bit <em>too</em> alert to be natural. Remembering how she had succumbed to his requests then, "Fine", taking another drag, he <em>did</em> look good after a shave, she decided in the warm embrace of the still water in the present.</p><p>Turning from him afterward to walk past the large bed and move through to the bathroom door, she remembered asking him to wait, "I'll take a minute" while disappearing from the room he was in.</p><hr/><p>They were sitting on the lower floor of the Crow Building about a quarter of an hour past; opposite each other in the corner of the old mess hall. Both eating quietly, Nate not saying much except for the small things, the weather had been bright and rain had washed the skies to reveal a clear, cool blue from the freeing windows to their side. "So, when're you leaving?" she remembered asking, once having finished.</p><p>Looking up with a smile, "Soon, Nick's close. Was gonna meet him, you should come." lightly replying once he was finishing up as well, putting down his cutlery to meet her gaze, the whole process of chewing quietly and mechanically done away with for sustenance.</p><p>She remembered a fond moment, a smile on her then as well before she remembered teasing him, "I already met him, dummy." she took a sip of the water, "besides, there's talk of attacks out in Southern Boston, someone reported in cries after midnight. Like the ones from the den.", she remembered ending those words with her smile as well.</p><p>"I know", that familiar grimace on his face, seemingly tired so early into the morning.</p><p>"Does Dez know? About this guy, this Apollo?" She recalled probing him further then, leaning in quietly. Apparently, the word of some ringmaster who controlled those reanimated had become the most common rumor in the admixture of fear and imagination that drowned the small town. The people would demand answers soon, just like that had in Diamond City.</p><p>Piper's mind drifted to another topic, the Courier. Many would suspect his involvement soon enough, any claim or false flash of rowdiness that could take over the minds. They needed to see him as a hero, Piper realized back in her wet slumber. <em>But is he? A hero? </em>Her turning to look at Nate, the one man she <em>knew</em> the Commonwealth could depend on, she decided, shifting lightly in the porcelain tub back in her room.</p><p>He had just replied in the negative, revealing to her his intentions of secrecy with his findings. No matter, she knew well enough the fact that he never did reveal just <em>everything </em>to her. Just like back in those old days, sometimes her being left for weeks believing him to have become part of the Institute. She had her reasons to suspect well enough, no matter how well things had turned out in the end. She remembered the last moments then, "So, nothing else, then?" She asked, turning his way.</p><p>The man shook his head, taking the napkin, and patting himself before standing and nodding his farewell, "I won't keep you."</p><p>She could see him before her closed lids, his words coming to her mind, "Good luck, with your book", a quick smile from him; with some amount of assurance and he had been gone soon later.</p><p>She was back in the darkened bathroom swiftly once those knocks on her door grew louder, soon a constant tap that made her open her eyes reluctantly. <em>Ren, </em>she looked out the window sitting up in the porcelain bowl; the sun has passed its zenith and afternoon dawning. She got up, a towel around her tight as she skipped over to the knob, expecting her friend. And there she was, Ren. Dressed in those checkered brownish red flannel and some metal ornaments upon them, she supposed. Looking at her smiling face that started speaking, "So? Enjoying the good life, huh?" Diamond City's Captain of the guard asked brightly, a show of bright pearly teeth on that handsome jawed face, the scar hidden now behind her hair tastefully.</p><p>"What can I say?" she tilted her head, hand on her wet hip; she really <em>did </em>feel good after a bath, stones lighter too. "I can't resist a good soak." she simply said.</p><p>"Save it, come on, get ready. We gotta hit the ol' church, things're moving quickly now." Ren replied, turning her back into the room as she shoved her inward, the door locking behind them.</p><p>"Whatcha mean?" Piper only asked now over by the same table as before, the foundation once applied she reached for the lip paint, fixing her face hurriedly at that point. Before her in the mirror; working on herself as Ren appeared in the reflection behind her pondering.</p><p>Once she was done, Piper reached for her small clothes next, going over and wearing them on before putting on her shirt and everything above it. Ren watched in silence, noticing the work kept on the table, the pages were all pulled in together now, no stray ones for any wandering eyes.</p><p>Ren began then, still looking at those sheets, "Orion is meeting with the leaders, Dez invited him." she eyed her after seeming to remember something, "And Tom, they know about his past, you see." She said quietly.</p><p>Frowning, Piper turned, "His past?" Asking as she interrupted her makeover; looking at the woman who was staring at the floor, leaning over the brown table by then.</p><p>Smiling gently, then asking, "You really don't know, huh?", walking over behind her and setting her hair familiarly, Piper smiled a bit but Ren was lost in her own words, "Joshua Graham, you know the guy?" She asked hoarsely in a quiet tone behind her neck.</p><p>"Yeah, started the Legion back many years ago with one Edward Sallow, right?" she asked, wondering about the connection here. <em>Unless...</em></p><p>"That's the one." she sighed, her hands came up in the fluorescent reflection, and Piper saw that iron spiral rings down her ring finger to her right. She spoke then, looking her way, "Well, guess what, Tom? That's Joshua Graham's kid, true flesh and blood." She quietly went on as she set a few strands behind her ears.</p><p>Piper was left wide-eyed, not having any words to give back; remembering her reporting and the strange man who had been her second story of the day. Usually, something like the coming of the Courier would be the primary topic of discussion, but now, after the attack, things had changed. The Lion having receded to seedier parts of Goodneighbor where she herself was now in, called upon by the Railroad, she <em>had</em> to be there. She looked at Ren, nodding.</p><p>Finding herself then, she moved past her friend in the mirror as she looked out the window, tightening her scarf. The hat she wore now in her hands off the table, "ol' church down south, we should go." speaking into the panes. Ren nodded, turning to the move as Piper looked around one last time, the small pre-war 911 strapped on her thigh and a couple of magazines under her coat lapels. Both women walked out of the locked hotel room in the afternoon Boston sun.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Danse </strong> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">2288, December</span>
</p><p>M7-97, Paladin Danse, looked about; seeing calm scenery over the island of Sanctuary, here where the old wooden bridge had finally been repaired with reinforced iron-studded beams under his supervision. He saw the Long family talk and walk past the commerce stands and enter the housing regions. Further back he could see automation robots fussing about, no doubt fabricating something important for the settlement.</p><p>He moved out the small platform beside the weapon bench, to his left was the old settlers desk, turning from the red table and moving out into the sun to find the young boy before him, a Minuteman holding a long laser musket beside the young prodigy who had one of his own primed ready. The boy was growing tall, already outgrowing his old, strange Institute clothes. Now in a long jacket and hide trousers down to dark boots, a young-faced Minutemen recruit to any common eye, he wondered. The boy's voice had changed too, somehow experiencing a sudden growth spurt in a dying, blown-out world. <em>Such life</em>, Danse mused. Finding himself, he straightened, "Okay, again." he commanded.</p><p>The boy nodded after having turned from him, past his twelfth winter now in that determined look that so much reminded him of Nate. He smiled inward, "Now!" he shouted.</p><p>The rifle bolted out, a piercing force of red flashing off the bucket on the wooden pole, the boy not stopping; the recoil not affecting him one bit as he twisted the coil and strapped up another kinetic punch as he took aim and pulled on the trigger. The already rolling bucket now shot up into the air higher, the boy then took the rifle and aimed upward, twisted the rifle again. Releasing red pulses of energy in short bursts like a fishing reel he pulled in and cast out; like a semi-automatic, those red pulses of lesser energy beams that couldn't kill from what Danse saw, were pushing the bucket further up into the sky, and juggling it senselessly.</p><p>The bucket fell finally, the boy having coiled another round before strapping the gun back.</p><p>"Not done with you yet, soldier. Give me five rounds around the island, now. Go!"</p><p>The sun was over its mark by then, soon the floodlights around Sanctuary's main track lighting up the settlement. The air was a mild scent of burnt wood, the combustion project along the old vault hill, no doubt, wafting in with the evening breeze. Hard to imagine no one had gone out there for almost two hundred years, as he had found out. Except for the odd Railway spy, of course, if Brotherhood Intel could be believed, <em>the Brotherhood</em>, he winced.</p><p>Not knowing what was real, what was made, there was no point over pondering such things. Whether his friend dying in his arms had been as real as the first battle he had been, same as the first time he saw a man's life leave his eyes or when a woman had first met his lips, all veiled in the ether of doubt, something he tussled against each waking hour. The boy came up to him, that brown stormy look in his eyes like his mother's. Nate had shown him pictures, stuck for days out someplace shitty, memories of better days to keep them company, his memories apparently unreal perhaps most of the time, he found himself musing.</p><p><em>Calm down, soldier, </em>he reminded himself,<em> your fighting days are done, easy now</em>, his mind beading sweat upon his forehead as he calmed himself, soon finding a quiet Shaun standing quiet to his left. The boy was not panting but Danse could tell from the way he stood that the young boy had been made a bit tired by his rigorous training of the day, as had been a constant for the last six months, bringing him over from the jewel when synth tensions had heightened a few months back. He turned to the young boy, "Son?" Danse called out.</p><p>"Yes, Sir?" The boy probed stoically, turning and coming to attention before him.</p><p>"Pack your belongings soldier, we're traveling south. Nate, your father", he turned to the horizon, over the old satellite array, "He called for you, son. Says he needs your help and also to keep you safe." he eyed the boy, a spitting image of the old fool himself.</p><p>The boy only nodded, walking away towards the old home his mother had once cared for, now Codsworth the sole memory of her for the young man in its ancient repaired halls.</p><p>Danse rose then, finally calming his shaking legs as he walked a few paces over the main road around the rounded block. The pace was comfortable for him, walking without his armor becoming more familiar to him now as his pace and stamina appeared greatly increased as of late. Or, he felt it was, at least. He sighed, walking to the empty bridge beyond the last sentry posts that guarded the settlement.</p><p>From here the river ran south from where he stood, going over to the thickets onward. Leaning against the post as he rested there for a minute then, working out the route in his head to Diamond City. <em>From Lexington to Cambridge, </em>well, Lexington was easy enough, he figured. Cambridge, well, he would have to find another way. Danse grimaced, looking out the horizon over the far mountains as steps came by from his right.</p><p>"Hail, brother." A voice called out, Danse turning to find a cowboy hat adorned man with a musket in his arm, a long light colored cloak over him, Preston Garvey.</p><p>Danse nodded, the man coming slowly beside him, reaching for a white slim down his lapels. The retired Paladin watched the Minuteman light it up with a flip, all the while the haunting voice of a woman rang out of the small radio on his belt at the back; now echoing between wooden harnesses.</p><p>
  <em>"Where can we go? When will we find what we know?<br/>When will we find what we know? To let go…<br/>Begin, Begin again tonight."</em>
</p><p>It sounded like a new tune from what Danse could make out, wondering where the awkward young jockey had found anything of value out in the wastes. Shaking his head he looked to the relaxed man beside him, taking in the cool air that below through them from the south.</p><p>"Slow night, huh?" Danse asked, perking up to the old soldier.</p><p>The man only smiled, taking a puff and speaking through smoke trailing around him, "All of the same, really." he turned, "And you? How goes the training?" The man showed pearls and dark eyes glinted in the rising eastward moon.</p><p>Danse returned the smile, motioning towards the old Adams residency, "Studying right now, Codsworth is apparently equipped to handle anything for a few more years."</p><p>Preston smiled, taking a drag as he spoke, mostly to himself, "I'm glad. Nate would be proud, you know?"</p><p>Danse looked up, "I guess so," he said, then remembering his worry for the moment, "Hey, Garvey."</p><p>The Minuteman looked up, waiting for his words, "Nate wants someone to take Shaun to Diamond City." he trailed off, "And seeing how things are with me and the" he didn't go on. The man beside him came around with a hand on his shoulder. Danse saw him come readily, no hate in him for his kind, none for the kid either for that matter.</p><p>"Don't worry, I'll go personally," he said coolly, "Shouldn't be but a week and back."</p><p>Danse was left wide-eyed. He had to admit, it made sense, sending even a First Responder preserved the risk of revelation. No, Preston going would be best, he realized. "I don't know what to say, old friend." he ended, going back to the wooden railing as he reached in for a cigarette of his own.</p><p>The cowboy hat-wearing soldier turned to him, "So, when does he want us there?" Garvey asked, looking his way as he lit the stick for him, Danse thanking him with a nod.</p><p>He took a drag and wondered for a bit, then replying, "Well, he wanted us before the first sowing began actually."</p><p>Preston nodded slowly, releasing a drag as he went on, "That means we should leave immediately." Preston calculated, turning back to him. Danse only nodded. <em>Nate</em>, that man planned everything on the margins, someday it might come to bite him back, Danse wondered, taking a drag and enjoying the cool air blowing through him from the south.</p><p>
  <strong><span class="u"> Nate</span> </strong>
</p><p>The Sole Survivor turned a darkened corner to enter into a hall blocked by a mesh of metal wires no doubt highly electrified, thousands of volts running among hidden walls that Isabel had single-handedly set up. <em>That girl, </em>what a crazy sight it was, <em>her castle under the earth</em>. Nate came near the door, motioning towards Ada, the robot coming and standing before the symbol that augmented the door space before them. After a second the infrared passed over Ada and passage was allowed. A few minutes passed while they walked through cages where animalistic robots were kept imprisoned, Nate looked on and wondered in amazement at their natural, life-life movement patterns with minor hints of darts and jumps in fear or excitement.</p><p>Slowly moving to the elevator, they got introduced to the slow growl of the humming rotors below them making the surface unstable. The elevator worked quickly, the speed making Nate reach an iron beam affixed close by that was cool to the stabilizing grip. The elevator stopped short instantly, throwing Nate off inertia somewhat. Then adjusting, he walked forward, finding Ada unaffected behind him. As the elevator slowed about ten feet onward his mind drifted in the droning hum of the mechanism, looking about seeing layers of robots automating and recreating its empire larger and more complex over time. It was a runaway train now, this empire of electronics.</p><p>His mind went to the words then, the words still darkly blotting in the fine paper he had found in her room. He remembered; an encore of the boiling clashes over by the green after the fire. Sajius Hull, that man was going to be a problem. Remembering the rousing voice of some actual talent, like those<em> orators from Nora's dramas,</em> he wistfully remembered. The man had a way with words, the kind even Nate couldn't match, <em>that</em> man could have probably saved his marriage, he darkly mused.</p><p>Nate reminded himself that it was not the man he was really worried about, no matter what Piper had to say. <em>He's a symptom</em>, he realized, going over his head and bringing up the blond braggadocios fellow in his high-pitched upper society accent. Nate could almost smile, redirecting his mind to what really was his quarry. The fear was a byproduct of the actions of someone masterminding the chaos rising around him, t<em>hen who?</em> He wondered. Nate had eliminated every threat of the Commonwealth; none had stood up against him, until now.</p><p>Well, he had help at least, or that was the idea; his mind drifting back to the silent man who was always skulking about. Quietly assessing them all from what he could tell, sensing a deep weight on his shoulders that seemed to bring him down a notch. Well, his number was up, Nate knew. The Railroad would have found him by now, no doubt. Nate wondered if he would sink or swim, having bet the former against Nick.</p><p>He remembered Nick then, the small picture he had slid at last while walking away from him out Goodneighbor. <em>Ren,</em> he wondered another death upon his conscience. He grimaced, remembering the lone woman over the raised landmass, a small grave for the precocious girl who had been Shaun's friend, two new kids in Diamond City, they had bonded over it. <em>Shaun, </em>he wondered, figuring Danse to be with them soon any day now. Another picture then, he remembered. The darkened figure up on the green armed in rifles leaning easily over the scenery, watching the woman below; Tom, no doubt.</p><p>Nate came back, from here their path was through rows upon rows of conveyor belt mechanisms that had prowler's claws attached to various faces that grabbed and moved lifeless robots to wherever they went. For now, he walked silently with Ada before him, quickly coming before a similar door to the one before as they moved past the large room to enter a stairwell that turned right to Isabel's inner lair.</p><p>It was the small murmurs of servo gears that perked his ears up first, motioning to Ada as he crouched down to look over the corner to the stairs leading upward.</p><p><em>Brotherhood? Here?</em> A worrying sight indeed, Nate scanned the two Paladins with arms primed to shoot, looking about the cavernous hall they three were in. Nate couldn't go in guns blazing without finding out how many actually existed, first. He worried about the young girl as he then dashed across from one cover to another choosing his moment. Vaulting to the other side of the stairwell, from here he grabbed the ledge and looked towards Ada. She was motionless. He motioned something with his hand and Nate knew she had understood, moving slightly away from the hall they had just entered as she moved back to the conveyer halls behind.</p><p>From behind the containers he then walked crouched across a span of about fifty yards where he saw power-armored Paladins keeping order, not trashing the place or exposing his cover, thankfully. From halfway from where he could see, poking his head up for a moment; the long pillars were each housing a tin man, more ahead as walked and heard them discussing things not entirely combat related as he soon identified scribes among the paladins as well. They were on top of things, it seemed. Already tagging and jotting down the dimensions and instruments that were housed deep into the walls and far above them. <em>All by just one, quirky, young girl</em>, Nate still found himself getting caught by the fact.</p><p>He saw Scribe Hanlon next a few paces up, working with another one in her own cadre probably and a Paladin as well stood aside, <em>where was Crane?</em> He wondered, moving past the crates as he now came to a hallway that went further into where Isabel usually could be found. The road was clear here, an empty hallway with the usual brotherhood foot soldier on the patrol. Well, this would have to do, he supposed. A man walked past him in the light, Nate in the shadows stalking his step as he closed ground, the arm coming at once around the collared neck, pressing, and holding. <em>Yes, that's right, sleep tight, kiddo.</em></p><p>He dragged him to the shadow he had presided before, in the empty chambers he quickly dragged the body to a sectioned-off area, finding all he needed off the body, leaving the kid with substantial gear on his sleeping lap. <em>He could probably pay for a new suit with it</em>, he shifted weights, thinking about the fit. Looking below, the brotherhood under garb over him now, the metal piece with the insignia before his chest and one arm padded over the whole; taking the laser rifle next he moved out, becoming one among the host of the Brotherhood.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Brandis </strong> </span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">6 hours ago</span>
</p><p>The old paladin looked out the curved, thick glass on his side of quarters above the bed. Feeling the world hum and sway slowly around him as his room floated atop the Prydwen. He gasped, getting the chills and sweats as he lost control for a second, <em>easy, tiger, cool, it</em>, adjusting himself, he turned.</p><p>Scribe Hanlon stood before him, a spry young woman with dark blue eyes massacred. She looked well, he supposed, having met her years ago now.</p><p>"Paladin, you're back." She said, somewhat shocked and coming closer.</p><p>No, this girl still remembered. He smiled, "Yes, I was back six months ago, down there." He gestured to the Airport Base the Brotherhood had decided to make a permanent fixture in the region below east. Brandis did not have a say in the matter, the command having been unanimously sanctioned by the Elder. <em>That brash young lad</em>, he wondered.</p><p>She spoke, "So, I'm assigned to you now?" Haylen asked as she perked up on her toes a bit, trying to get his wandering attention.</p><p>He turned, coming back with a smile, "Seems like it. The Elder thought it best I got back, you know. Work with familiar faces." he ended quiet, watching her take his words in, eying him with pride, nodding determinedly.</p><p>"Well, we're in luck, I guess." she handed him something, a clipboard with a page marking something with the name 'Mechanist' on it. He took it, listening as she spoke, "She wants to talk. Apparently some power shortage, guess she finally bit it. Good for her.", she replied more to herself at the end.</p><p>Brandis eyed her for a moment while reading over the report; the woman had truly grown; now a full scribe working expedition and escort on artifact runs. <em>Just like your mother, </em>he found himself thinking fondly. Looking up then he spoke, a trained voice he had developed again as he had gotten back on track, "Alright, Scribe Hanlon. Let's hit up Terry, get the ol' bird hot for take-off. We can be gone in an hour."</p><p>She grinned and nodded greatly, "Finally, <em>something.</em>" she sighed and smiled at him again, patting his arm gently with a concerned smile, "Good to have you back, Bran." So, she remembered him after all, her affectionate gesture left him staring. He was touched, no words to give as she walked away, leaving him with thoughts of his mother who had died in his arms.</p><p>
  <span class="u">2 hours ago</span>
</p><p>Knight Paladin Brandis Jones walked up the low hill before the others, Paladin Anthony and Rhys walking at his step, watching his six. He eyed the strange-looking overboard that rested on welded together automobile parts, frowning as he moved closer when suddenly something happened all around him.</p><p>He turned instantly, the helmet coming over before he turned and motioned both Paladins. The Scribes still farther out by the humming vertibird when the shaking came.</p><p>It came as a quake, its epicenter somewhere close near Bran, he tried to duck but his armor made it hard to contain the inertia of the opposing motions as he tried to stay on two feet. Hence, stumbling back all three Knights were on the ground before the quaking stopped unceremoniously as if designed to throw a suited man off balance; a door soon sliding open from the metal elevator that had somehow rung itself out of the earth in seconds before them.</p><p>Bran was still breathing hard from the exertion of getting up; slowly as he saw the other two do the same behind him. The bucket-wearing woman came to him first then, wearing blackened overalls he saw. His helmet was already off to be amiable to the young woman as he had planned.</p><p>"So", a strange voice crackled out of her somewhere, down from that helmet no doubt, "He sent you, hmmm, well, okay then. Follow me, and don't touch anything!" she turned, more slowly then, "Not yet, anyway." She replied, eying Anthony and Rhys behind him, then back at him through that strange helmet she wore.</p><p>Bran only nodded, somewhat entranced by the whole entrance, turning around and motioning to the two and seeing Haylen and the four others that followed behind them. The pilot restarted the rotors as the vertibird started to climb the skies.</p><p><em>Alright, let's see what we have here</em>, he wondered, following the darkly dressed girl down the steps.</p><p>
  <span class="u">45 Minutes ago</span>
</p><p>Bran sighed as he looked over the pages before him once more; the girl had her feet on the table, bony arms folded to her chest as she looked at him, unimaginably bored at his speed, no doubt. Tapping a finger in a rhythm; she eyed him quietly then suddenly shrugging at him with a questioning look, he only shook his head and went back down to the twelve-page document.</p><p>"You…" he was beginning, "you want <em>how</em> many deceased brotherhood holotags?" He asked after a few minutes, looking up and raising an eyebrow at the strange girl.</p><p>She turned, surprised to still find him sitting here, "Who, me? Um, Six thousand five hundred forty would be just <em>lovely"</em>, she said brightly from under that mask, <em>doesn't it get hot in there? At Least power armor hot air circulation</em>, he thought on the side. He looked back down at the document, there was no fixed amount mentioned but it had been at the top of the list. <em>How strange</em>, he wondered. Would she make copies or fakes? He wondered, finally deciding she would probably find out their con soon enough if he decided to go the trickery route.</p><p>He grimaced, looked up, "Fine, when will you-"</p><p>"Wait!" she raised her hand, stopping his words. She got up, on toes as he noticed, Bran wondering what the devil had gotten into her now just then." He's here…" she said dreamily, mostly to herself from what he could tell.</p><p>Bran was frozen in a frown as he asked, turning abruptly, "Wait, who?" Brandis asked, poorly assessing the events that unfolded before him, understanding little of what was occurring.</p><p>She was too far gone to hear his words at that point, already stood on toes for a second longer after turning to him at once, speaking almost too quickly for him to make out, "I need to synthesize make-up", her words came with as much nervousness as abject terror. Jumping on top of the empty table and reaching for a hatch on the ceiling of the vault they were locked in; the same vault that was supposed to be secured for signing the deal in the utmost secrecy, or that was in the description.</p><p><em>Son of a bitch! </em>He yelped inward, her feet disappearing behind the darkened square on the ceiling that was soon pulled shut from below. Bran stood there watching with his mouth open.</p><p>
  <span class="u">Now.</span>
</p><p>Bran was walking the long, smooth silver hallways along the halls of the Mechanist's lair. Crane and one of the scribes stood close as a pair when he reached them into the long winding hallway. Calling them over and letting them know, gasps and all once exchanged he told them both to follow him.</p><p>Brandis turned about half a dozen corners, in the winding maze-like caverns of the girl's empire he was keeping his head cool, concentration perspiration as sweat beading over him as he tried to navigate to the mouth of the cave from which they had come, the heat and steam around them didn't help either. It was then he saw his Paladin on the floor, hidden among the shadows. He motioned to Crane as he moved past both to go through the left hallway. He took a moment, walking quietly as he stepped through each room to find it empty until at a cross-section another turn down he saw the man.</p><p><em>Nate?</em> He started walking to the man, hurriedly now as he was about to call out to him as he got close, the perceived man was only turning when a girl came out of nowhere from their side.</p><p>"Nate!" she cried out, taking the man in a mismatched hug that left Brandis confused. Nate met his eyes from over her head, a shake of the eyes meaning she was harmless but still. <em>Who in the?</em></p><p>Bran coughed, trying to get her attention, "Little girl, I'll ask you to step aside this instant." he ordered, regaining calm.</p><p>She turned, frowning at him as she folded her arms slowly, "What?" she cranked, her face splitting into a question, "Go read your contract, old man", she said, eying him from head to toe, giving him some of her sass.</p><p><em>Old, me?</em> He was wondering while the girl pulled Nate away from him, the Paladin stood stunned as his friend tried and failed to turn around to face him, the others catching up with him, Antony carrying Nate's armor. <em>Now, what is going on here? </em>He just wondered, motioning to the three and moving behind the girl.</p><p>They were back in the same room now, the dark-haired girl smiling at him with happy eyes as he stared at her while coming to sit down in one of the chairs to the side. Nate followed behind him, coming once after checking something outside the room. The three of them now alone in the room as the younger Paladin made sure this time.</p><p>Nate turned to him then, nodding and both turning to the girl humming to herself next who stood leaning against the metal table, lost praising her newly painted nails, Bran noticed.</p><p>Turning to them she asked, "What?" She scowled while asking with a sharp frown on that youthful face.</p><p>"Issy, what's going on here?" Nate asked smoothly, coming closer as he moved to her, "You calling on the Brotherhood?" He fingered outside, "Is everything all right?"</p><p>Pausing for a second, "All right?" She almost laughed at him through her fuming form; a curse under her breath as she went on, "I'm dying here, Nate. Dying!" She cried out, arms outward as Nate recoiled back, "How many more years did you think the old substation was going to last, huh? I can drag out the efficiency only that far, you know." eyeing him sideways, thin arms folded around her with fists formed tight. The room chilly in the silence left behind; "You never call either." she ended softly.</p><p>She turned to him, now angry. Nate was only opening his mouth when the girl walked to Bran, coming quickly and snatching the page out of his hand. He stared wide-eyed as the girl walked to the door, tapping codes as the door slid open.</p><p>"I'm glad we could do business, oldie." she turned to Nate next, a squint of the eye and nod of disapproval clear in those eyes, "So, can all of you just leave now?"</p><p>"Issy, listen. I'm sorry-"</p><p>The door closed behind him, Nate left with an arm outward reaching nothing. Bran sighed, getting up and going to the man, patting him on the shoulders.</p><p>"You <em>do</em> know she has fifty-two automated laser turrets around a three-mile perimeter, right?" He asked quietly, shaking his head as he reached for a silver flask behind him. It was midnight then, probably not a good time to drink as he quietly watched the Sole Survivor finish off the last drops of the canister.</p><p>"So, brotherhood is moving around a lot these days, huh? Introducing the joint to the neighborhood, I take it?" Nate pointed out.</p><p>Bran only nodded, folding his arms as he leaned on the empty table. "Well, what can I say? The old Elder finally seems to be seeing things your way. The last council meeting was," he paused, reaching for a cigarette under his vest, "well let's just say it was productive, yes?" Bran replied with a diplomatic question. Nate nodded, rueful in his disposition as he lit the stick for the old man, now coming over to his side as he became quiet, and a habit common of the damn fool.</p><p>"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Bran replied calmly, trying to ease the worried man.</p><p>The man from the vault turned to him, "Guess so, Brotherhood might get rough with her.", he warned.</p><p>"Hey, don't worry. I'll make sure nothing of that sort happens, I'll personally make sure." Bran replied slowly, meeting those dark brown eyes seriously.</p><p>Nate nodded a smile after as he spoke, "Thanks, brother. I appreciate the help."</p><p>"Don't have to do <em>everything</em> yourself, you know." he ended, and then frowning down his coat, "Hey, you have any of that moonshine left?"</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Preston </strong> </span>
</p><p>The lone Minuteman examined the expanse of the rising horizon north from atop the old storage tanks that stood above the main factory. From here Lexington south was a show of small airway trails and tracks that joined rooftops. Plenty of windows were also mended over those old buildings, coming over to the roof to find wooden shacks had more life teeming in that town far below, south past the now reclaimed highway, broken at both ends. Preston ducked down, kneeling as he reached forward and turned the dial. Here the transponder was a show of smooth, green pain over a metal box. A Railroad spying device, from what instructions Danse had further provided to him. He turned the dial some more, coming closer as he finally found an end to the even static.</p><p>"Son, come here," he called to Shaun, the boy coming at once beside him atop the creaking metal steps high atop the factory. The boy was focused on the machine, Preston saw. The horizon before him no wonder, the concrete below him providing no fear. <em>Do you feel like a little one? Fear and love, anger and joy?</em> He watched the boy reach for the dial, and then turn to him. Preston nodded, the boy then proceeding.</p><p>Soon the process was complete, Shaun's voice recognized once they were given coordinates; supply caches and weapons for the road ahead. The paths south were supposed to be safe but one could never be sure. He turned to the boy, now stood watching eastward over Malden. Preston saw the laser musket he had taught him to shoot with, now probably a better shot than himself. His broad frame and height helped him immensely. The boy was growing well; he smiled, wondering what Nate would make of this unrecognizable young man who would soon appear before him.</p><p>"Right, we should move out", Preston spoke, his cloak fluttering in the afternoon winds, common to this time of the year. His eyes catching the small figures preparing the soil for the harvest that was to come.</p><p>The boy turned to him, nodding as he preceded first, Preston following the young synth down Corvega's winding steps.</p><p>They were back in the streets a few hours later, clearing out Corvega of anything worthwhile in the process, the boy walking quietly behind him as the bustle of Lexington came to the fore; the sounds and smells overwhelming Preston's senses as he looked around, taking it all in. The boy turned around himself too, looking intently to one side where a small girl was chained up to a post, a dark shock collar on her frail, naked neck.</p><p><em>What the hell?</em> Preston walked quickly now, pushing past the masses in the crowd as his musket came off quickly behind his back. Shaun moving behind him, wading through a set of his own bodies stood against his path before him.</p><p>At the front, he saw a clearing, a swarthy bald man guarded by two men in deep red hockey pads and pardons with a pre-war look; the helmet with iron rims that lined the face for protection. They had weapons prone too, now coming up to his face as Bran came to his side. The child did not hesitate for a second, the musket coming smoothly to the fore, inclined straight, and then shot.</p><p>The red beam pulsing across the crowd as it spattered one legionary to the wall, head ruined and fried. The other man primed his bolt action, the boy was however quicker, twisting the coil partially and firing short bursts as the gun was shot out of the man's hands. The people holding his escape now as the crowd around them grew. The citizens of the backwater Commonwealth were oozing and awing as they saw the young rogue wearing a long coat and deep blue vests and trousers.</p><p><em>Bring him in those vault clothes, it was highly requested.</em> He remembered Danse's words, sighing as he turned around to find the crowd getting larger. Now murmurs among them as they soon start saying, <em>"vault dweller", "Nate's son", </em>among them<em>. </em>Well, this was getting worse by the second, he figured, turning to find the boy. He saw him skirt around the alley behind to the left, looking with a start he dashed after the boy.</p><p>The alley then rounded to a corner where he found the boy, the dirty girl was before him then, looking into his eyes. His hand was over her head, a light pat and she was calmed then. Shaun turned to him, smiling as Preston came close.</p><p>"She's dehydrated; you have that water we found?" Shaun asked, not looking up.</p><p>Preston nodded, reaching behind and getting something for her. Synth feeling thirst, it was still a strange concept for him to digest but that's what Nate had told him. <em>They chose this, Preston. They chose to live and die like any of us.</em></p><p>"Do you know her name?" The Minuteman asked quietly once she had stopped drinking.</p><p>"Yes, TP-34B", he looked up, "We need to take her with us." the boy commanded, Preston lost for words as he only nodded. The scenery appeared a show of three people in the empty afternoon alley as mist pushed itself out grates in the side.</p><p>Preston turned and motioned to Shaun, the boy moving quickly as he carried the girl down the path, foot traffic sparse here as they made for their private accommodations. The girl was perhaps seven winters old from where Preston could make out. Dirty, pale feet dangling over one side as a lifeless doll-like head lulled on the other. Shaun, having not much difficulty carrying her, Preston was more surprised by his pace, "Come on", he spoke out from before him, "She needs a doctor, General.", and he turned to him, stopping them in the process by an empty road.</p><p>They were in the outer roads that ran east; from here he could see the old underground museum now turned into a hotel. The boy motioned towards the doctor's place over by the renovated bus stop. Preston nodded, Shaun, moving then without a word, the Minuteman following.</p><p>They were waiting now, outside the small practitioner's office in the lounge as a radio rang out. Shawn sat back straight staring at the broken clock on the wall, making Preston look for a spell as he caught himself, going over to the desk area where an elderly woman was working on some papers, "Hello there, madam." he said, nodding with a tip of his hat.</p><p>The woman looked him over through those small spectacles that magnified her gaze, frowning for a second and then taking a look at the boy she went on, "You think it's wise to bring him here?" Her question came loudly enough for the boy to hear.</p><p>Preston eyed her, wondering at her words for a moment before reaching into his coat and finding a familiar stack of pressed in caps, slowly withdrawing it to the table he began, "I'll be asking the questions here if you don't mind ma'am."</p><p>Turning once to look back at the boy he turned to the spectacled woman who was fumbling with the smooth cylinder, and then meeting his eyes she smiled, "Fine."</p><p>He nodded, going over the events in the town square. Getting some shock at the discovery of legion foot traffic in the area. <em>This close? How? </em>The Castle knew little about any of these developments. Lexington was supposed to be safe this close to Concord.</p><p>He went on, asking about the slave trade that had apparently started right out in the town square. The woman only grimaced, shaking her head and blaming the Minutemen, "It started yesterday, General. I'm surprised you don't know" She eyed him closely, then back at the boy.</p><p>Preston brought her back, "Wait, ma'am. What? What started yesterday?" He asked, frowning.</p><p>"The takeover, General, Lexington is now the property of one Augustus Maximums," she spoke quietly, eyeing the door before passing the name to him.</p><p>He only stared at her, and then heard the boy rise behind him as he turned to look. Shaun walked to the door as it opened to allow the doctor and the synth girl to pass into the room.</p><p>"Is she okay?" The boy asked while looking at the white-coated man, a cigarette in his hand as his eyes wandered after taking in the question.</p><p>"Yes, it seems so.", he frowned, eying Shaun, "Cleared her out of rads, no addictions or chemical imbalances either.", It was then Preston saw the girl, wearing a white one-piece dress that came down to a skirt below her knees. She had tiny boots over her soles, a lining of white socks over her cleaned feet. Golden hair bound and eyes the clearest blues as she eyed Shaun as well, "Gave her my old daughter's dress, knew it'd fit" he trailed off, saying no more.</p><p>Shaun nodded to the balding man with thanks, "Can she leave?" Shaun asked next.</p><p>"I suppose so; since the payment has been pre-made we are done here. I suggest you leave quickly, more of 'em will come, surely." He took a drag, eyes going behind the boy to the door to his right.</p><p>"You didn't see us." Shaun coolly said, eyeing the doctor.</p><p>"Not even in my dreams, son." the man took a drag before going on, "You three are careful now, strange times ahead."</p><p>Shawn nodded, reaching out a hand to the girl. She looked at it, her tinier one coming at him as he grabbed tight. The girl came close, turning to him next and nodding. Preston tipping his hat to the pair running the business as the three quietly exited out to the darkening outdoors.</p><hr/><p>The road was a quiet trip through straight concrete mixed roads that were old and chipped. The young ones were before him, there where his eyes could be on them at all times as he also minded his back. They were making their way south, past Lexington and down from the Nursery and over the flyover that ran north to pass under a water body. Hugging the edge now they walked under a generous amount of moonlight.</p><p>"General" the boy spoke out. All three stopping at once as Preston turned, a speck of light glinting over his eyes as he ducked, "Sniper!" The Minutemen shouted out.</p><p>All three made it behind obstructions, Preston further away from the pair who was closer to the direction of the bullet. It had skirted rock and ricocheted down the damp soil close by, Preston peaked over shadowed rock, seeing the darkened figure and one of the little ones move up.</p><p>He saw Shaun turn, "Wait!" he called out but the boy was out already. Rushing to the closest outcropping of rock closer to the hill from which the sniper assaulted them. He ducked down as another shot echoed across the banks of the lake.</p><p>The muskets now out as he aimed a shot he took a second later. The sniper didn't shoot back, Preston seeing Shaun reload calmly as he placed the strap over his chest and turned to walk up.</p><p>Just then another shot rang out.</p><p><em>No, </em>Preston feared.</p><p>Shaun dropped like a rock, rolling over the hill as Preston was running to his tumbling body. The girl before him got closer before him. He saw two more legion-like folks coming close. Semis and bolt primed and pointed to kill.</p><p>Preston took out the rifle; the first shot came calmly, a fully charged shot that took a man's chest off his feet, flailing over behind the other man now coming close. He saw another red beam then, coming from Shaun as he dropped the rifle next, getting up with a grunt and some expression of pain on his face. Panting and beading sweat on his forehead as he reached for something behind him.</p><p>The small pocket knife came handily to him, his other hand finding a flare as he lit it and held it against his boot, the knife slowly warming up the chemical combustion. The sizzling of flesh was next, a grimace and clamping of teeth that passed quickly enough. The bullet appeared to be a mean piece of dented metal, no doubt rusted and irradiated as well that fell to the soil beside him. "He got me" the boy grinned, smiling softly to the girl, nodding to her knowingly. She only sat nearby with the gun close to her by her hands, the musket trigger clean of blood that wetted Shaun's palms.</p><p>"We should stop for the night close by. Let that fix it up," Preston pointed with his gun, the boy nodding and turning to the girl. She looked around, then got up and started walking.</p><p>"Can you carry me? Walking will only make it worse." The boy said calmly, reaching for him.</p><p>"Of course", Preston grabbed the boy, still lighter than a grown man as the boy came to his arms easily, slowly stepping over the hill and under old pre-war pipe installations where the girl was working on something near the concrete pavement by the time he reached her.</p><p>An hour or so had passed, the girl off to the waterside alone while Shaun sat quiet, watching the sunset to the tunes of Chopin "General, I know you have questions. I can entertain them, you know." he looked up, in the crackling fire the boy's face was a gaunt mess of dark hair over his head, dark pools meeting his coming off the distance as he took in the Minuteman now.</p><p>"The girl, how did you know her name?" Preston asked, catching a glance at the small figure town by the banks to his eyes behind the boy.</p><p>"Would you believe me if I told you I don't know? I can feel her, General. From the inside, her thoughts and emotions, just like Mr. Danse.", he ended quietly.</p><p>Preston's mind went back to the dry gun trigger, the girl's hands close by, his eyes going wide, "You were", he frowned, looking at the girl and back at him, pausing first, "You were controlling her, weren't you?"</p><p>He nodded, smiling softly as Preston watched in horror, "Don't worry, General. She's unstable right now, her prime directives in a fritz, I just calmed her down." he looked the sleeping girl's way.</p><p>"A barrier, General, from her past to the now, I think you'll find her rejuvenated." he nodded, wondering at his own words for a moment. Rising then he went to the mat close by the girl, "Good night, General. Wake me up in a couple."</p><p>The man nodded, the boy wordlessly falling over still quickly. Dawn came soon enough, three cycles of guard patrol and soon enough the first chirpings had arrived, waking to find Shawn working over the fire as he adjusted his eyes, finding an early breakfast on the way.</p><p>"Hey, you want some gecko eggs?" The boy asked, turning.</p><p>Preston nodded, looking around to find the girl already up and preparing some roots and tubers.</p><p>"How long have you been up?" He asked once up, getting a bearing on his feet and walking about.</p><p>"An hour, maybe, The water nearby seems empty enough, it's usable for now."Preston nodded at his words, getting up slowly as he saw the girl working quietly with the mixture in a pot, handing it over to the boy next wordlessly.</p><p><em>Like clockwork</em>, he mused, finding the south stream river close by go get ready for the journey ahead.</p><p>
  <span class="u"> <strong> Nate </strong> </span>
</p><p>The Sole Survivor was in search of booze right about then, the Paladin moving slowly behind him through the narrow hallways into the server banks, here where the temperature of the room was kept low, a major piece of her power needs apparently. "You stocked hooch, here?" He asked with a lighter tone, then chucking to himself.</p><p>"Ada couldn't carry <em>all</em> of it, you know," he said jokingly back.</p><p>"Uh-huh", the Captain came beside him while Nate worked on opening up a hatch and procuring the many shaped bottles within, filling his canister with one of them to start it off. Standing up quickly and reaching it to him. Brandis took it, "Thanks," he said.</p><p>"So, what's up, Bran?" He asked more personally now beyond preying ears, "The Elder sent you here?" Nate asked with a raised eyebrow.</p><p>"Well, kind of. But", he took another gulp and passed it over, leaning beside the wall same as Nate, "The real fight's over in the north, son." he replied gravely.</p><p>"Salem.", Nate said quietly, not a question to be sure, a pathway into Arcadia that had brought grim news as of recently, more of those reanimated that had pooled over there it seemed, Boston probably a late attack if all things were to be considered, <em>could have stopped this</em>, he wondered.</p><p>"Those rewoken", Bran said with a passing breath, a shiver he could see run over the man, <em>you've seen them, haven't you?</em> He put the canister to the man's gut, making his head turn and come away from troubling memories.</p><p>"Don't worry, I'll handle It.", Nate replied calmly with a practiced grin. <em>Just one more on the list, I guess.</em></p><p>Bran nodded, smiling as they were quiet then for some time, a few of the usual probing among passing and re-filling the same canister. Their talk moved to more mundane and then much more serious things, Bran speaking up once some small talk over the weather was coming to a closure, "So, the Courier, he's really here, huh?" He asked, looking pointedly at Nate.</p><p>"Guess so," Nate replied with a shrug, taking a swig of the vodka now, feeling his gut warm against the coolness of leather and metal over him. His mind went back to Tom then, no doubt being harassed by all three sects and asked for help by the faction he was off it to meet with, it'd be a lot for anybody. Nate had heard stories, taverns, or bars haunted by gang families for generations all ended in a heartbeat. He wondered if the Lion would come to define the Railroad as a friend or a foe in the coming days.</p><p>"I need your help, Nate." Bran spoke up, bringing him back to their cool databanks down the Mechanist's Lair, "Set a meeting for the Courier with the Elder. He has requested it personally of you, not on the books. Off the ol' bird, if you catch my drift," he replied quietly after taking a swig, gasping foggy heat into the cool room.</p><p>"I see Nate replied quietly, it could be arranged, no doubt but why away from the Prydwen? He wondered, turning to look over to the older man, smiling as he saw Nate acquiesce to his wishes.</p><p>A few more bottles passed, the two of them having finished half of the stack by now. Bran went quiet then, having spent some moments talking about the Scribe from Cambridge. It was good he was meeting people, of course. Even as friends, if nothing else.</p><p>"So, how're things with the old' ma'am?" Bran asked, turning his way with a smile.</p><p>Nate frowning as he asked, "Who?" Raising an eyebrow at him.</p><p>"You know who I mean", he eyed his ring finger, "I see it, Nate, you still believe in that, don't you?" He asked, passing the canister his way.</p><p>He was quiet, no words to say back, and taking a swig he just shrugged with a weary smile that was all too common these days, "Does she wear it too?" Nate became queen once Bran asked the question, taking the canister whole as he nodded his head afterward.</p><p>"Huh, the interesting situation you have there", he talked into the air, "and what of Cait?" He asked with an uplifted interest, making Nate turn from the act of refilling the canister, now the remaining host of whisky they were planning on conquering.</p><p>Nate eyed the old fool with a grin, "She's found a new toy." he said, not sure how to explain it to him. Apparently, Cait had abducted Tom to the Combat Zone, what a trip, he wondered, <em>on his first night, too, </em>he shook his head, rising and then continuing their conversation further into the receding day.</p><p>Leaning against the metal boarding opposite the large cubical hunks of metal lined in pairs equidistant, filling the long, low roofed room, Nate spoke up, once having reclined easily against the wall, the weight of the armor off his back and relaxing his legs that had stood for hours, "So, you holdin' up okay on your end?" Nate asked quietly.</p><p>The man just shrugged quickly, "As good as can be hoped, I suppose" reaching for the canister from Nate and taking a swing, then glazing over as he spoke, "You know, like dead men walking." He ended with a hollow smile.</p><p>Nate took back the canister, "I know what you mean, brother." taking a swig and remembering Sanctuary in his mind, <em>I know just what you mean...</em></p><p>
  <strong><span class="u"> Piper</span> </strong>
</p><p>She was walking ahead of Ren down the red-bricked tunnels by the time the sun had truly vanished, finding the road through the city and the hidden passage within empty, or already traversed perhaps, <em>they're all here, been at it for hours, no doubt, </em>she worried. She had been late, <em>sleeping</em>, of all things. Sighing inward and turning around she nodded to Ren after they had crossed the last turn, soon to find the shiny metallic dial at the center of the brick wall on the right.</p><p>Her friend stepped forward wordless, "Lemme, they switched up a few things here since last you came," Ren replied as she reached for the dial and pressed a combination, the slight grooves she finally saw as the circles pressed inward and retracted back to evenness after some time.</p><p>Soon they were in, finding the outer catacombs empty as the stairs led them to the inner hold of the long pillars, and here stools and men sat atop them dotted the place; many more leaning on walls and brick-pillars surrounding the sole man who sat in the middle facing three faces intent on him. Piper didn't miss Orion beside the man as well, Joker close by Dez who was haunted by both Reformist and Pacifist leaders on either side, Minerva and Jupiter respectively. Odd names to be sure, the synths had decided upon them, humans having no choice between old cryptic Gods and even more abstract alphabets and numbers.</p><p>"So, it is decided then?" Dez asked as she turned to both synths on her either side.</p><p>"Hold on, we still haven't ascertained why the Courier even came to the Commonwealth.", the voice came from Dez's left, a fiery woman with blue hair and pale skin, eyes dark and shaded back, "Besides, we know of Robert Horse, Courier, did you expect us fools to not notice?" Minerva asked fiercely into the room, getting a few nods and words of inquiry with crass language mixed in.</p><p>Jupiter went on after her, like a balancing act after a storm, "Robert House extensively helped the Institute in the first century after the bombs, young Master" Piper walked closer, seeing the long darkly draped woman to be pointing angrily at the quietly sat man. Both hands on his knees to Orion's left, Piper saw as she came from the right, bypassing a few fresh-faced youths who watched on wordless, a few younger girls a bit more interested in the man than on the procedure itself, she noticed. Shaking her head she rounded the last pair of pillars before reaching the other Tom down in the room with them.</p><p>"Hey," Piper said, coming close, Tinker Tom nodded to her once she came into his view, a weak smile as he went back to watching the proceedings; few had noticed the Diamond City reporter enter into the fray. She took a seat beside Tom, covering herself from the left by the wall that partitioned westward from where she was. The Courier from here appeared calm, his face passive and not aggravated at all.</p><p>"How long?" Piper asked, not looking the inventor's way. The goggle studded man only scratched his chin, a sigh after which he went on, "Five hours, they've been at it forever. Min doesn't believe he just came for the view, you know." Folding his arms then leaning against the wall beside Piper, smiling then going on, "Nor do I."</p><p>She looked around; found Ren on the other side nod her way as she hid among the strange faces on the other side, listening closely. Keenly interested, apparently she was, Piper could tell. The reporter nodded, suddenly finding her unable to give a reason why exactly the Courier <em>was</em> here in the first place, she went silent, listening to the words the Lion now proffered for all of them to hear.</p><p>"Fine then.", the Courier turned to Joker after speaking, the dark speckled Courser with folded arms leaning on the pillar turned to him, nodding after a moment passed where plans of visiting someplace had been established, at last, Orion turned to Dez then, speaking something as he came close to her.</p><p>Dez nodded, moving through him and going over to the Courier, "Orion will accompany you as well, Whisper needs urgent care. Do whatever you can." she eyed the buzz-cut man, void of all his golden hair now. He nodded, rising as Orion and Joker followed him out the secret passage behind the strategy desk.</p><p>The meeting now adjourned as people slowly shuffled out, Piper saw Dez finding her among the many personnel around them. Soon coming to her before them both. Tom nodded to her and tipped his cap to the boss lady as he walked away, leaving Piper with the woman.</p><p>"Took you long enough." A cigarette came to her lip, lit up slowly as she eyed her, waiting for an answer.</p><p>"I was busy." Piper brushed her off, asking her own questions then, "So, were they headed?"</p><p>"The vault, 118 to be precise.", she said, turning around once more to look over at Juno conversing quietly with Minerva, the host of three out on the mission turning the corner over by the side before her, "Kid's got a handle on it," Dez spoke up, turning to her turn, "Hours of grilling and nada," a smile on that copper-haired face as she smiled, coming beside and lighting one for Piper as well, "He won't budge that easy, we'll need Nate for this."</p><p>Piper turned to her, "Nate? He's not back?" She asked hopefully, trying not to look so but.</p><p>"Don't worry, your <em>husband </em>is fine. He sent back his status, he's with Isabel and Paladin Brandis right now." she grimaced, taking a drag and shaking her head, "It's all on a house of cards now, Pip"</p><p>"Don't call me that." Piper said with a frown, a bit of friendly mirth in the slap she placed on her arm, Dez turned to her, "Huh, not for me to say, yes?" Dez smiling after her words when she saw Piper blush and turn away, focusing over at the tables stacked to her right, the Tinkerer's workshop lit brightly with white fluorescence and seemed well maintained, a few novices working on some readings close by, "Teleportation hardware?" She asked out of the blue.</p><p>Dez turned, seeing where she was faced, and nodded, "Yeah, set 'em up all around the known settlements, make a back-up and resupplying ten folds more effective." Taking a drag and turning to her.</p><p>Piper whistled, left a bit wide-eyed, the implication of harnessing teleportation as a common means of transport was a strange idea, a strangely new one to be fair.</p><p>"It will be a leap forward for humanity and the other races." Dez's hazel eyes met her, turning softer before asking, "You want dinner?" The older woman asked, then speaking on, "I can fill you in on the hearings, I'm sure Ernie caught most of it."</p><p>Piper nodded, thanking her then going on, "Yes, I was going to ask Nate," Piper trailed off, turning her head to look for Ren, <em>where had she gone?</em> Facing Dez back she nodded, "Let's go then, Ren's off somewhere, I guess." She trailed off.</p><p>"That girl never <em>could</em> sit still, could she?" Dez shook her head, turning from her and walking.</p><p>"Not when her life depended on it" Piper replied quietly, falling behind Dez who slowly moved through the eastern halls of the newly expanded Railroad HQ down the ol' Church in Boston.</p><p>
  <strong><span class="u"> Fahrenheit</span> </strong>
</p><p>Ren stepped close over the divider, ducking beside the detritus of the rundown tunnel down the vaulted passage below the Boston Commons, quietly listening to the three who walked before her, speaking softly. Too low for her to make out from this distance. Well, no matter, soon in the vaults she'd be able to sneak closer. But just then, her eyes were fixed at the strange device that was set up before the vault, the three rounding up to it coming through a well-maintained road up to where it led, the rest of the way into the actual vault shut off, it seemed, <em>what the hell is going on here?</em></p><p>The bald man was working on the console beside the device, soon a ring and a flash of light as bright as the sun took over her shielded sight, and soon none stood before her. She stood at once, reaching for her gun, and looked around, no one around. Sighing, she reached the pistol back, going over to the console Orion had touched, Ren breathing long and hard as she tried to calm herself down. She saw the simple analog controls over the switch-board, reaching for the same commands as before she pressed the button, feeling herself be erased and remade whole again at an instant.</p><p>Ren was on a smooth surface, the room was cool, the even controlled temperature kind through vents that softly worked religiously under the deep earth still. As she rose, Ren soon concluded where she was, <em>the Institute, those bastards, so that's how, </em>she was getting a rush, wishing Piper was here with her just then. She turned around, finding none before her from where a small console was before here opposite. Ren walked closer and reached for the terminal, finding it erased clean.<em> Of course,</em> no doubt they'd clear out anything of value to someplace safer.</p><p>She moved across the large elevator door, seeing the three people at the base of the maddeningly large column that extends below her feet. The smooth, transparent cylinder slowly coming up to her level as she stood before the opening slides of the curved glass. Ren looked on, watching the three men disappear behind the eastern doors before she stepped in, slowly being led down levels full of silver architecture of sleek design and spotless surroundings. She was still taking it all in when Ren suddenly found herself at the bottom of the hall.</p><p>Ren slowly exited the solid glass covers she treated over the smooth surface lightly, careful to not trip or incite a commotion. Turning her head left she saw the door the three had exited towards, leading to another path down a path lit up in white, all the other doors seemingly locked for now. She moved closer, the door opened at once to her arrival, moving slowly she wondered on those cams that spied her being through the quiet halls, <em>was anyone looking?</em> She wondered, going over to the path that led downwards down a newly excavated path, apparently.</p><p>Taking the steps feebly downward she felt the slow rise of a machine grow around her, turning the corner off the ladder that took them below down to older ruins. Here the walls were thick and smooth, a darkened hallway that led further onward, and on the first door to the left, she saw light emerging out in slits, the three men.</p><p>Just then, she paused, feeling the breath on her back.</p><p>"Stop," the cool voice commanded her from behind her neck, freezing her hands as they had almost reached for the 10mm on her thigh, the voice was calm, coming from behind her in the darkened room they were in, <em>Joker</em>, and she made out.</p><p>"Look, Dez sent me, so chill okay?" She whispered.</p><p>He waited for a second, Ren watching the slit of light through that door on the left, "I guessed as well", he reached the piston back, Ren turning around to see the man still wearing those shades in the dark, <em>redundant, </em>Joker was beginning, "Come on, we should-" When the door slowly opened, both of them reaching for the corner as Joker seemingly pushed her to one side. Tom walked out of the room, Orion not following him from behind.</p><p>The man looked around, making sure no one followed him and started walking down the darkened hallway, "What's down there?" She whispered to the Courser, the synth only shrugged before going on.</p><p>"More of those halos, I suppose," going quiet as he paused for a second before starting to more, "Come on," Joker called out, already out quietly towards the first door on the left.</p><p>Ren followed after the man, slowly coming behind the synth that was already into the room, she entered, seeing the large silver-clad hall with the large dial at the center of the room. The device holding some form of the rudimentary skeleton upon it, one left leg upon it now the focus of the tissue arms that worked on weaving life onto the synthetic frame. And then she turned her gaze downward, besides the control panel was an unconscious Orion, Joker slowly losing him with water and physical excitations.</p><p>A hard slap as the man came wide-eyed, "Ah!" Orion yelped.</p><p>Joker turned to her, "He's fine, obviously didn't want to kill you," He said to the prone man, rising at once, cursing under his breath, and quickly moving past her to the door.</p><p>"Where are you going?" Ren asked, seeing him turn quickly.</p><p>"I'll catch up to him, you people be ready, we might have to apprehend him." He said quietly, Ren was shocked but Orion protested further with words.</p><p>"He must have his reasons, Joker. Peace, hold your conclusions." He advised.</p><p>"Too late for that now, didn't he chokehold you to sleep? That's battery right here," he turned around, looking down the hallway receding down further into the earth, "Try to keep up." And he was gone.</p><hr/><p>Ren was walking down a long column, Orion calmly walking in front of her, the room lighting up to his steps as his arms were crossed to his back to her view. The man then slowed, the further lights onward lit up as he came beside Ren, "I'm sorry, Dez caught you up on his mess, Pam had her suspicions, you see." He said quietly, not looking her way.</p><p>Ren nodded, "Guess she was right, <em>something</em> is going on…"</p><p>"You are right with that, Captain." the man went quiet, turning towards the empty halo rooms that stood to their left one after the other, <em>why hadn't he used one of the closer ones?</em> She wondered, turning to Orion to see her questioning look be greeted with words, "I haven't been here in some time, Captain. All I can say is this, Tom knows things, things that have not been made even privy to me, old deals perhaps." He theorized out loud. Ren watched the contemplative man ponder audibly, soon a crash of something loud bringing them back, a few hundred feet up where the commotion had originated.</p><hr/><p>Ren was breathing hard, feeling the weariness up to her neck as she reached the door as fast as she could, she turned inward, and the room was still dark, the machine however lowly lit in slow blues in an alien pattern in the dark. The man appeared from beside the door, a small embrace from behind as he grabbed her jaw and slowly planted two bullets on either side of her thigh, silenced in the large hall.</p><p>Pain leaked into her, her mouth sucking in the air but finding nothing, the gun on her hip was soon relieved of her holster, feeling weak as the support her assailant provide voided itself, falling at once to the ground to turn to an Orion who was staring at something behind him. She saw more closely now, Joker was on the floor, dead it seemed from how his arm had twisted out and shot at itself, a pool of putrid blood smelling off in the distance.</p><p>"Calm, Orion." the rattle of voice-acted out, Tom moving around before Joker's dead body and them both. Orion was raising his hands, trying to come closer as he started speaking.</p><p>"You didn't do this, Thomas.", he said, the voice however was different to Ren's ears, Ren was left watching as Tom turned wide-eyed, straightening his gun as he moved back a few steps, the bloodied carcass a few paces behind him now.</p><p>He was enraged then, Ren saw, "Whose voice is that?" Tom asked harshly, "Speak!"</p><p>"I think you know, Thomas. You freed him, didn't you? Well, he's my <em>reverie</em>." Orion spoke, this time in his normal voice.</p><p>"Yes, I did," Tom said slowly, "I freed him."</p><p>Orion nodded, "I'm sure you had your reasons, but first I must assess this room, hold please," the bald man walked to the control panel to the side, Tom during then working on removing the body from the main pathway, leading the corpse off to one side for later disposal. The blood coming off as he sprayed something and poured something after lighting the pool of red on fire. Beyond the working man was the lowly lit terminal being operated on for some moments as Ren saw the man come close to her. She recoiled at once, his hands came nonetheless, found her wounded leg and a knife soon enough appearing in his one hand; his flare turning it orange before her wounds were cauterized soon enough, working quietly as Ren not letting a breath slip past lips.</p><p>"There, all better now." He said brightly.</p><p>"Fuck you." She didn't meet his eyes, still looking over Joker's body.</p><p>The man only smiled a new kind from what she knew once having turned to him, a light one like he had been made free somehow, he slowly receded his tools into his coat as he turned back to her, in the lit room now his face was too close for Ren's comfort. Or was it her moving closer? She found herself when he began speaking, "We had a deal, you know." he turned to Joker, "I'm...sorry about him." turning back to Ren, "Robert can string up synths like puppets", he said quietly, "There was nothing I could do." There was grief there on the newly relaxed face still, Ren saw.</p><p>Ren nodded, trying to slowly understand what the man meant, turning over to the halo over which Orion hovered over, no doubt recently activated, <em>a new synth?</em> "What did he offer you? She asked quietly, trying to find his eyes as he had gone quiet.</p><p>Those cold blues met hers evenly, speaking plainly then, "Arcade's life." he said with no compromise in his eyes.</p><p>Ren was quiet for a moment, and then nodded as she came close to him leaning against the wall as they both had sat down by then, "Hey" she said raspily, not looking his way, "I understand, for what it's worth." She said quietly.</p><p>Tom turned to her, nodding as he looked back over at the simple garbed man working over the recently activated halo as true night dawned over the Commonwealth, with one tough, enigmatic sociopath on the loose, Ren wondered as she leaned her head against his shoulders, feeling the day's toil weigh heavy over her eyes just then, finding comfort in the steady man's touch.</p><hr/><p>Hey, the first arc for the story is completed, hurray!<br/>Do tell me what you thought and felt of the story up till now, the FNV FO4 crossover finally coming to the fore! :D</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Episode 6: By the Numbers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <b>Episode 6: By the Numbers</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>-Crime and Punishment</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Tom</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>2282, July 17th</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The day was almost done by the time he had returned to the quiet Trading Post down the 188 southwest of Vegas; the road north running past a haze of dust that muddled the afternoon scenery around him into something strange-like, the brown wrappings coming off his face as he saw souls before him then along the road running north. From past the small caravan full of refugees and brahmin; the lone brown-clad woman was sat by the barstool beside the road-shop. Veronica turned upon noticing him, smiling a bit as she finished her cup first, turning from Samuel, and came hurriedly towards him. Tom reached for her as she came in too deep just in time. Surprised, he was left wide-eyed, Samuel watching over and grinning like a fool. He just frowned back at the old lecher, coming off her and then trading awkward pleasantries once she had caught herself and tried to act cool afterward, "Hey...so...it's done?" She asked sheepishly later on after a tense pause, "Is he...gone?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom saw her concerned, dark eyes set on him, waiting for his reply. He nodded to her, seeing her sigh and taking a deep breath, "Right, okay," she replied, going over something in her mind as her feet took her over to her knapsack by the table. She reached for it and came back, "Let's go, then?" She said, turning south.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom smiled, acquiescing lightly as he turned, asking her something first, "You think that it'll work?" Tom paused, "Detach Arcade from the failsafe?" He finished by asking, remembering what she had found hidden among House's lines of code.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think so, but not until you offload the main stuff...him basically." She ended, looking intently at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hmm, right, I see."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Vi brightened up, coming close, "Don't worry, I'm here." she said with a smile, her expression growing distant somehow then as she asked once they had walked a few paces south on their way to their destination, "So...how's your arm? Didn't see you a lot after the whole Van Graff situation" She spoke, trying to mask the concern in her voice. Tom only nodded back for a turn, expressionless, she didn't know about Rose, better it that way than the truth, Tom had felt back then. It hadn't been fair, she had confided in him about Christine, him coming back months later with quiet words about her first love and a doting teacher gone mad. She had been quiet after the truth, revealing little of what went on in her then, becoming distant somewhat after that, Tom remembered wistfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Reaching out his arm and showing her its many-layered architecture as he pulled the sleeves of his duster back up until his upper elbows where the mass sealed itself into the flesh at an even circle around his bicep. She looked on, wide-eyed, and paused, "Amazing, so...Arcade did this?" She asked, turning back to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"At his word, he was there the whole time, Arcade was the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hands</span>
  </em>
  <span> let's say," Tom said quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah…" She said, turning back from the odd piece of limbic augmentation, coming beside him then closer, "So, how does it feel?" She asked softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I don't mind it most times, I actually forget even losing an arm, well, sometimes." Tom had to admit at the other times the arm felt more than what had been before, </span>
  <em>
    <span>much </span>
  </em>
  <span>more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Really?" she asked, turning his way, "Common symptoms of limb dismemberment are phantom pains, are you saying you feel nothing like that?" She asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, not now at least," Tom remembered a time when he had; the darkened jail cell lining the damp corridors through which he had hunted the last of one sizable branch of the Van Graff family, he had felt it then for sure, And after all had been said and done; he had ultimately been too late, </span>
  <em>
    <span>save him, Tom,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he recalled, a distant memory he examined only as a stranger in his own mind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were about six hours out from the trading stop by the afternoon, the desert finally cooling off truly to give away to a full moon night, a gallery of stars above the eastern wastes they trekked through, mostly empty around these parts since the last time he'd been here, after a few minutes more by a familiar clearing Tom spoke up turning back to her, "We should stop, for tonight."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She nodded, quickly settling down as Tom looked about, going above a clearing from the eastern haunch over the river that ran and wove north to meet Hoover Dam. Here in the rocky banks of the northern edge of Fortification Hill the Courier quietly waited for the oncoming day, eying the old Follower's tent atop the hill and marking him for death.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Robert</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>2289, January 15th</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He felt his arms first, down to the tips as he slowly touched each finger to his thumb, his mind racing inside as his digital consciousness quietly re-compiled itself into a biotic one all the while he took in the earthly sights and sounds around him. He was not ten minutes born yet and had already had to intimate himself with the many systems and subroutines in his control, a hundred sub-systems alone when it came to locomotion and directing the transmitter; the latter experience having taken much out of him under the moonlit night.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Like a newborn child, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mused, looking down over him; the gray Institute medical suit that came up to his ankles below naked feet on a gray rooftop. His mind all the while having to quickly discard or keep data stored for hundreds of years on the fly, making sure he didn't miss anything too important in the process. This was expected and Rob had trained for this, compressing memory very quickly was something he had perfected over the years in times of rare recreation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He looked around the clear sky as a rounded horizon appeared around him, Medford's rooftop being the highest of any echelon around him, all other stone spires falling easily short compared to the tall building where the transmitter had dropped him off that night. Walking along the rooftops of the old medical building he saw a ruined Boston before him then, beyond the southern wastes that soon muddled into a yellowish haze of irradiated waste. </span>
  <em>
    <span>They couldn't save her, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wondered sadly, or maybe the men below had not cared at all. Yes, that was more likely. He came to the corner of the building, sitting down as he reached for the edge, naked legs dangling over the heights as he turned around, finding the suitcase he had sent east centuries back</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled sadly over a youthful face in his early twenties, a light mustache, and well-kept hair cut short and sharp. The man reached inward the suitcase, the clasps clicking open familiarly as his mind went back to the Lucky 38, the bustle of the hotel and casino below an echo over the low chatter in the monitoring room, remembering the first of those blazing comets arrive that early morning sun out those bulletproof glasses, </span>
  <em>
    <span>let it go, Rob. You couldn't save her, not all of her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He reached for the suit with a strange look coming over him, remembering a young, fondling Jane doting over his belonging as he had gotten ready after a steamy shower that October morning more than two hundred years ago, his memories frozen in time, now remembering as he kept his times and experiences as an organic above all other tertiary data that was either discarded or inconclusively sequenced for later decryption.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The deep red tie rounding self around his fingers as a shirt had come over him first, the buttons up next as the dark coat came over him to shield him against the elements after, cream-colored trousers next after he stood up, tying his laces last. Rising he returned to the ruined Commonwealth, </span>
  <em>
    <span>She can be so much more,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he sighed, smiling as he brought out his right arm, a two of his fingers snapping and he was gone, the small buzz and hum and the enigmatic billionaire synth reborn who vanished from atop the stone spires of Medford Medical.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He was walking carefully down a dim and sparsely lit path somewhere deep in Diamond City, trying not to step on the puddles that riddled the narrow road running from what appeared to be Pipe Street from the signpost he had since after coming in; a narrow path that fed four intersections to the Cauldron, a path leading to the stands and the eastern and northern main roads in its totality. From here the dark alleys showed him many characters, shady and otherwise; whores and wastrels that skulked at his passing among the baseball padded guards that stalked the wetted routes, watching him with a keen eye for a second longer than was usual, it appeared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rob had his arms folded back, soon appearing before an establishment that was dug into the earth; some form of semi shelter that had been in the craze along with those horribly designed radiation booths over in the eastern seaboard back then. The door to the repurposed restaurant opened without a sound, the swift heat and the smell of ethanol hung heavy in the air, making Rob remember some of his bodily needs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He probed further, walking towards the balding man who stood behind the counter table by the end of the wall opposite him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I'm more human than we had planned, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mused, wondering what he should have for dinner then, finding his almost sixty-year-old body famished after its long slumber post the fabrication process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man spoke up as Rob reached the counter, "Dobryy vecher, my friend." He smiled back quizzically at the cyricil speaking fellow, in dark jackets and of a stocky build who leaned in over his domain, a keen pair of eyes to his left by the rented quarters as well, watching him quietly from on a chair close by.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He only smiled in his reply, "Eto deystvitel'no" he said, and making the barkeep lose some of his composure as the strangely dressed man went on, "Food, my good man. What do we have?" Rob finally asked the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The proprietor only shrugged once having regained his usual swagger somewhat, "The general critter meat and broth, if you want it." he replied in his thick eastern accent, not really sure how to interact with the newly arrived prospect. Rob only nodded slowly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>a wild palette, here it comes. Well, one can always begin somewhere…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He confirmed his order and took a seat by the corner table as he noticed the few patrons who still proffered the quiet halls deep into the night. A serving woman with dark blond hair eyed him secretly as she worked quietly inside the grim cast room, "So, what word from Goodneighbor? Heard they burnt down the den there," Rob heard a voice speak out, the last gathering of souls who sat together by the main lounge, gloomy talk in the air apparently as he quietly listened on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I heard those banshees came there too…" One of them trailed off, the mood of the conversation left behind not provoking much interaction. Their talks spoke hence about the Courier next then; getting away from the dreary stuff, Rob smiled lightly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Oh Tom, never were the quiet one, were you? </span>
  </em>
  <span>he mused, hearing more about the fire that had ravaged the City the transmitter had ported him to next. </span>
  <em>
    <span>A baseball stadium, this is what Boston has been reduced to,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he told himself quietly, seeing the blond woman walk up to him with a rising smile, "Hello." She came, reaching the plate over to him, the meat a strange searing on one side of something indistinguishable beside a light viscous liquid by a pale, wooden bowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you." He said, seeing the thin women nod, and then walk away.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Oh well, let's hope Shaun put a strong stomach on this one</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he quietly hoped as he dug in.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>He was atop a low flat surface then, the transmitter now brought him to his third destination long after the day had finally ended yesterday, his first night of sleep had gone better than he had expected. It had been almost half a day since he had been alive then, the sky around him a strange hue of dawning orange. Apparently, these were the stops his friend over the wire would have taken him on, </span>
  <em>
    <span>so then where are you now, old friend?</span>
  </em>
  <span> He asked, remembering the quiet youth who had contacted him almost half a century ago now. There had been a different boss back then at first, the enigmatic group from the East had little to detail about them as Robert had later found out, low orbit satellites failing at allowing any inference to their methods of travel. It had not been until his bioengineering research had been frequented across the mainland continent during interaction with Big Mountain that he had gotten quick word back from his professors and peers down in their own vaults fashioned after the bombs had fallen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their collaboration had been fruitful, Rob had to admit. Being two power figures on the opposite sides of the foreseeable world meant there was little competition, knowledge and data flew across digital and analog channels for almost fifty years when they had been pushed forward science by half a millennia. They said war was the mother of all invention, it just seemed like invention had been taken off the breaks these past couple hundred years.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving over to the edge of the rooftop, this one low enough to allow him the vision of a familiar sight from his old memories atop his current vantage point, a broken-down version of the great lawn and cast of grass that ran on both sides of the long bricked path that had mostly weathered and pressed in or popped out altogether. The old CIT main hall grounds below him as he wistfully remembered younger days under the Banyan and Sacred Figs that had provided shade during days out under the sun in the University.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rob's reverie was cut short when he heard a step come from behind him, revealing the third member who was supposed to join them here. The young Courier had kept his word, Rob noted, turning with a smile as he appeared slowly before him, that same old dreary duster now more mean and rugged over the years, hair went apparently as he looked on intensely through those blue eyes, Rob sensing the metal in him then, smiling as he came forward to meet an old friend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Tom</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Courier walked along with the symmetrical floor marks that ran and stacked one atop the other, rising far into the ceiling from where he stood down below at its base. Slowly moving along the elevator as he came out and turned left, the housing quarters from here would lead him to Ren's room, the night past and the coming morning he was forced to start early, thanks to Orion, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I've contacted Arcade, he'll be here shortly.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He remembered the in-voice transmission that had arrived on his pip-boy, a personal line to the bald synth, having apparently set it up once coming down here, a line to Arcade as well, most likely. The man seemed energized in these alien halls like he was in his element, Tom felt, wondering how many of its secrets were privy to him in their totality.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving beyond the inner cafeteria chambers that were ghostly empty; he found the stairs that led to a case of spiral pairs going upward, moving across the empty hall and soon up the stairs as Ren's quarters came up to his left, the curved door to her room smoothly etched into the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On his approach the door unceremoniously slid open, he saw red hair about her first; over white sheets and back to the ceiling as the woman slept quietly. Finding his chance, Tom moved to her quietly, stepping on his heels as he found her pale leg that had been bandaged last night; over the thigh and around as he revealed more of her skin to examine the healing. Undoing the binds revealed a darkened clot over her under the thigh, easier now since she was turned over. He saw two dark spots where his silenced 22 had neutralized her, it may have been crude but it </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>been quick.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Feeling me out, are ya?" A husky voice sounded from within the sheets and pillows around the resting figure, she turned slowly folding her re-bounded leg back into those milk-white sheets as she turned to rise, the medical gown over her appearing wrinkled, molding itself around her as she smiled, "Morning", She said, wiping eyes as she tried her best to suppress a yawn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked well enough, Tom figured. He hadn't let the wound fester, skin cool and unheated to the touch, which was good. "You sleep alright?" Tom asked, hands on his hips as he watched the woman turn towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well enough, I suppose." She replied quietly, long before her feet were straight out before him, Tom sat on the bed's edge, turning her way as she asked, and "So, you just came to check up on that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Basically," he replied, "Arcade's here, soon the Railroad will be too. I'll have to leave before that." Tom answered quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Won't that just incriminate you further?" Ren asked; arms folded before her and an arched eyebrow questioning his decisions, her concern coming through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I actually have a score to settle now, don't worry, I'll bring you his head." He said with a smile, a strange wildness in those crystal blues, hand turning over to a flip open a broad compass that looked worn by age, "We operate quid pro quo, it means-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You scratch his back and he starches yours," she said, looking pointedly at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom nodded after a bemused pause, turning to the table and sitting over on the other side of the narrow hallway that turned left to the bathroom, Ren spoke up once he had gotten quiet, his mind going over the events of the darkened night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," she brought him back, making him turn, her hair was in a knot by then, faded red curls over her scar side cheek as she smiled, "You want me to tag along, then just ask," she said with a gesture of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, it's fine." he quickly processed, "you should be here, Desdemona will want answers, and you to give them." Turning her way with a cock of his head, "Place will be packed soon enough, they're bound to miss you"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She watched him quietly, wondering at his revelation no doubt; only Dez and Orion had known about her secret sleuthing down after the three, she would not have expected Tom to have found out about the Matriarch’s meddling down the old' Church, "Oh, don't worry. Arcade told me", he went on when he saw her rising frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ren only nodded then, "Whatever you had to do, Tom." She reached for his hand, "Dez will understand, trust me." She said, her hand over his that made him turn to her, trying familiarly not to remember </span>
  <em>
    <span>her </span>
  </em>
  <span>in the process.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom rose, turning to her and nodding with a wave, "See you around, Ren."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She only nodded, reaching for a cigarette she had found out of somewhere, lighting it up as she leaned in, "Don't doubt it, kid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Preston</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lone minuteman walked forward first, the children a few yards back watching as he scouted out the nearby scenery; a scant few trees shriveled up among rocks and irradiated puddles with dead, floating bloatflies. The road cracked and broke upward south from where they were, over the hill and finally leading them to Cambridge proper through it east.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Too quiet, </span>
  </em>
  <span>the General brooded, wondering where the usual Brotherhood detail had gone off to, a silent scene of empty streets in the still dawning day under a warming sun. He had been here before in Cambridge; the streets would always be bustling, if not by the feeble civilians then the heavily equipped brotherhood stalking the roads to guard them. </span>
  <em>
    <span>So then where is everyone?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned around and motioned to the two children, seeing Shaun nod and come over behind him along with the girl. She didn't have a name yet, apparently, she was still pondering over it, as Shaun had told him. He had only shaken his head, strange things were happening around him all the times these days it seemed, Sanctuary being rushed by an army of robots being the last shock he had received.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon there was a rustle behind him; turning at once he found the young ones recoiling at what came for them; a ghoulish beast on four feet that rushed at them from a corner at once. Preston ran forward, the rifle priming before him as a laser shot came out from behind him first, his one catching the beast in the arm, the beast not stopping one bit, Shaun's beam came up to its face, jerking its head but still virile and very much alive after the sure impact.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Run!" Preston shouted. Shaun did as he ordered at once; taking the girl by her hand as Preston ran behind them then. The harrowing cries of the beast soon roused behind them like a summoning call, a few more cries off from the distance adding into the deathly choir. They made it past an ally, going over by the narrow pathways that Preston soon recognized and led the way through, for now having lost the beast that had stood dazed for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What was that, Mr. Preston?" Shaun asked, coming over once they quieted down their steps and were on the stalk again. He only looked down at the confused boy, shaking his head, seeing his chest rise and fall over the exertion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't know, son." He shook his head, hands on his knees as he turned back the narrow opening behind them, "But I'm sure Nate has some clue about what's going on here." He said, mostly to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey! You three, identify yourselves!" A voice rang out from a mechanized tone from behind Preston, off to where the alley ended and soon a road ran up to the Police Station; the large suit-wearing Paladin stood still, another Brotherhood soldier who came up with a laser rifle, having incapacitated all three of their weapons by then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's right, drop it." She said coldly, eying him mostly, the children left mostly unwatched. Shaun did it at once, kicking it over to the sandy-haired woman who caught it sliding with her feet, looking down for a spell at it and then back at them, "Come on," she said tilting her head, rifle primed as the large suited Paladin held them down with his own armament of death further down the road. Realizing Preston had no choice, he was about to acquiesce when a shriek broke out above them on the rooftops, all four looking up at once to find the beast from before, now a small smudge over by the edge, soon leaping and coming forward, diving onto them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman was assaulted at once, the beast ripping her arm apart from her with its jawed grip, eyes mad and pale white as Preston caught a glimpse for a second, moving back mostly in shock and fear, paralyzed by it. He saw Shaun then, a rifle in his hands again, priming and firing at the beast, missing the already bleeding and dead Brotherhood soldier. Preston saw he had dropped his own gun, the long plasma rifle of his rising beside him as Shaun took a shot at the gnawing beast with it. It howled, rising and turning to them when laser shots from behind started harassing it as well, the tall suited figure rushing up behind the beast that had suddenly been cornered. Standing still as stone, an emaciated man mostly rags down to his legs and arms. Limbs appearing hard, dry-looking sinew that runs along his taut torso and gaunt face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The beast leaped then, running and diving off the opposing walls as it made its way up. He saw Shaun turn then, the rifle coming up before him as another shot hit the lanky beast as it made contact with the wall, the boy having anticipated the leaping step. It fell, the paladin coming at once and smashing its head to bits before it could rise once more, reaching down then for a shiny object among the gore of the brain and bits of skull that remained once its large metal feet came off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Preston hid his shock, seeing the synth component up close as the Paladin reached it somewhere behind and then arms raised to grasp its helmet. The long folds of bound hair revealed another female as she looked on at the corpse lay dead before her. A quiet moment passed after which she turned to the boy, "Thanks, for saving what's left of her." She said, hunching down and reaching for her fallen comrade.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shaun nodded, turning to Preston who then understood and spoke on, "What's happening here, soldier?" He asked authoritatively, the young grieving woman turned back with an eyebrow and some lip, only later recognizing him as the General for the Minutemen; Cambridge being a thin compromise among the two factions who had held down on the peace still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Sir," She said once he had shown her his mark, turning straighter she remorsefully told them about the recent Cambridge attacks, "They just kept coming, General." There's nothing we could do, just nothing" she paused, going on more worried later on, "Been holed up here for the past two days, the whole world's gone to shit since that Courier came." She ended bitterly, spotting something beside her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Preston looked pointedly at her, recognizing the girl to be mumbling in grief. He nodded back with a straight face once she had unceremoniously finished getting the tags off her fallen friend, seeing her quiet up as she wordlessly moved on ahead, the group of three followed behind as they made their way out the side alley and into the main defense perimeter set outside the Police station. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her friend held by those broad metal arms that carried the corpse effortlessly, soon a host of men appeared behind the defenses with guns at the ready, eyeing them keenly as their superior walked forward, allowing them three safe and unquestioned passages. The long doors opening wide as she geared up the short flight of stairs in her humongous suit, Preston following her in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was warm indoors; a few Scribes turned to and rushed to the Paladin, she gently handing over her dead friend to a pair of soldiers who took the corpse away to his right down a flight of stairs. She turned to him then, "Haylen." She called out, seeing the young scribe come up from the counter desk setup with odd gadgets and maps.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Paladin Granger?" She asked, the plain-looking superior turned to her, "See that the General here gets what he needs, Knight-Paladin Brandis will be with us shortly." She paused, "I need to report this to Elder Maxim." the woman said, turning and smiling down at the younger Scribe, "Hold this place down for me, Hay," she said, a few more words exchanged about the events before the Paladin had decided to leave. Moving around the room as the rotors of a Vertibird started rousing above, nodding to her and then back at the General she walked off, moving up the stairs to the rooftop helipad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So, you're General Garvey." The woman named Haylen said, "Don't worry, Nate will be here soon, they went out to scout the nearby area after the attack" her smile lessened somewhat as she spoke no more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Has it been bad?" Preston asked, seeing her turn away from him without a reply, going over to her desk nearby where she pointed over to the map stuck to the wall, "Four sightings, plus the one you folks took down I guess." She took another pin, marking it right beside the Cambridge Police Station. Haylen turned back, seeing the children for the first time, it seemed, frowning a bit and then back at the General for answers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Preston spoke up, walking quietly to the woman as he reached words for her ears only, "His son," the minutemen said quietly from below his brimmed hat, the woman wide-eyed for a bit but then slowly understanding. He knew her from Danse, his stories about her had been too many to recount, feeling some joy in seeing the young woman who gave the old veteran north hope to be doing well. Scribe Haylen nodded, slowly taking it all in as they talked on a bit more, her taking their entries in fake aliases for the children as she got the paperwork out the way, a silence once returning after the vertibird had taken off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haylen was about to ask more about the other child, seeing her shiver from behind him as a concerned look reached out to the shy girl behind him who wouldn't even meet the strange woman's eyes. Shaun, for now, looked over the map before the Scribe's table, watching the eastern shoreline run along the bay and up to where several colored pins had been marked, each a banshee incident of recent occurrence, apparently, "So who's the gi-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door behind them to their right, clicked open; a tall Paladin off his suit coming into the warm room as breath frosted before him, soon the man allowing passage for another who entered as well; the dark armor wrapping around a man who looked like he hadn't slept in days, eyes hollowed and face unkempt unlike before, Preston grimaced, seeing his old friend be ground down by the harsh wasteland.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nate," Preston said, making the tired man turn as he put an arm around the boy and smiled, Nate watching with a shocked expression as he looked on, turning to the youth. Preston saw him cry then, an emotion that had voided him after a failed marriage and even the death of his own real son. For now, tears fell freely, coming close as he hugged the boy, taking his son into his embrace, </span>
  <em>
    <span>you see her in him too. Don't you, Nate?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Preston wondered when he saw his friend, smiling happily for the man who had finally decided to accept what was before him all this time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Tom</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The path towards the inner halo hallways was quite still, the teleportation pads above remained silent for now, no doubt the Railroad would stalk about the Vault first during their excursion into the depths; take their sweet time in getting where they were. Nobody wanted to walk into something blind, especially here of all places. Tom walked to the first door on the left, the recombinant leg was still in fabrication, and the two circled dials turning at right angles at it orbited the skeletal frame. Finding the lit room empty he moved out, going deeper into the hallway then, Orion was no doubt over by </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> halo, the one he had used. Reaching the room after a few minutes he moved for the door, finding it to slide open at his coming, Orion and Arcade over by the console, backs turned to him as Tom stepped in, seeing his doctor friend turn around first.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey," Arcade said quietly, "mornin'"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom gestured to the bald sage by his side, coming over and exchanging quick pleasantries with both of them before the elephant of the room had gotten too large to ignore, Arcade began first," So, it's done, huh?" Arcade asked, trying to find his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom walked past them, the console coming before him, the smooth grey lines running some kind of blue glow going down the sides and into the floor panels as he saw them pathing all the way to the halo beyond the railed enclosure, "Yeah, it is." He turned, "I put in Vi's stuff on later," he smiled, a weak one weary over the years, Victoria's sacrifice hadn't gone in vain, no matter what; he could be glad about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arcade nodded, "I see…" He trailed off, "So, what's next?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom turned to Orion, "Cait should be here soon, with the girl. You talk to Curie yet?" he asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man nodded, "They are on their way together, they will arrive with the Railroad, unfortunately" he ended quietly, looking intently at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right." Tom breathed out, reaching behind his pocket and finding the compass next, revealing it to the first stranger outside the remaining pair among him and Arcade who knew its true purpose. The bald synth reached for the token, examining it closely as he fingered the clasp, his hands putting it still on the table as a circle of light came over the examining table. Deftly working off the tiny screws as the strange machinery of the old, weathered device showed itself within.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both he and Arcade were on the simple garbed man's either side; watching him reach for the Chip out from under the table as he brought out the shiny disc into the halo of light. Tom saw Arcade stare at him for a second; eyes then back down at what the synth was doing. From the internal components inside the compass, Orion had found port channels to it, eyes focused below him on the table as he explained, "I can access the device; it's of similar architecture. No doubt early collaboration was in full swing during its fabrication before the bombs, usury patent lists had this dated to 2271."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dated what exactly?" Arcade asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Orion turned to him, "Oh, solid-state devices, a form of storage technology." He said, shaking his head, "a quiet breakthrough for humanity," he remarked, "you should wonder why your pip-boy is different, Tom." He said with a smile, turning to him for a second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So wait," Arcade brought the synth's attention to himself, "It's like a memory device, but only better?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Much better actually, my good doctor," he said, arms coming around him as his eyes went back to the thin wires connecting the golden token to a device that fed it to the console, he saw the chip holster slot over the halo console; one that had been specially designed a lifetime ago for Tom to use, Orion had torn off from the main console, remaking it unto a portable slot for the Chip to be interacted with, as he went on, "This here is a modified version of the 2277 chip, free-electron dating with entanglement charts were a pain last night, Arcade," he said with a knowing smile, "but I was able to date it, this chip </span>
  <em>
    <span>is</span>
  </em>
  <span> the same one from Sunnyvale. Only," he reached for it, dropping the chip into the slot and grasping for the fine wirings attached to the compass, "it has been modified again."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a slow second during which Orion typed codes into the console terminal nearby, a second of stillness and then the dial spiked around from on the table, turning slowly as it slowly stopped completely once having swayed back and forth towards a fixed direction. Tom reached for the instrument, swung it around, and saw the direction it pointed to be fixed this time around. Tom looked up, "It's not pointing north." He said dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, but I'm guessing you can imagine whom it </span>
  <em>
    <span>is </span>
  </em>
  <span>pointing to," he replied, watching Tom quietly. He nodded back, slowly realizing as he turned to the doctor who was quietly taking it all in. He gave Arcade a small nod and he understood most of it. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Time to kill you, old man, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he wondered grimly, </span>
  <em>
    <span>for good this time.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Remembering the brown-eyed girl that haunted his dreams then, remembering Hidden Valley turn into distant smoke and long cold rubble before their sand-ridden eyes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>don't worry Vi, I'll find that bastard, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he promised, looking down at the compass; the needle almost still now as it pointing south.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Piper</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was staring at the hazel-eyed woman, the older Matriarch down here where Piper sat, folding her arms around herself, and taking a drag off the cigarette between her fingers as she spoke, "Yes, you heard me right. The Institute has been deemed a necessity for requisition purposes. It's still a guarded secret mind you, the subordinates back at the hearing think they're going down to 118." She shook her head, "don't worry, we had guards posted there, just to be safe." she ended, wondering still.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So that's how" she breathed, remembering those alien-looking prefabricated walls and panes that had come together so perfectly and hastily to set up the synth colony outside Goodneighbor. She took a puff off the burning stick by her lips, eyes cast downward at the short-hand she wrote before speaking, "Then, what about'' she began, bringing her writing hand up to her lips and taking the cigarette off, "the halos?" She asked, looking pointy her way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman shrugged dismissively, "A synth printer, basically." Dez said, rising as the woman reached for a file from a rack set opposite her bed in the red-bricked room they were in, her personal quarters deep into the night as both women discussed the events that had preceded them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So that's where they went, to help Whisper?" She asked, the woman turning and coming over to her, sitting beside her as she handed her the file. She reached it with thanks, finding long documentation on the machine and its functions. Pam had apparently decoded much of what had resided in the halls of the old CIT outfit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, Orion knows the place like the back of his hand." Dez went on gently, pointing towards the wall to their west, "Where do you think all that teleportation hardware came from?" Piper listened and nodded slowly, writing none of </span>
  <em>
    <span>this </span>
  </em>
  <span>down, </span>
  <em>
    <span>she wouldn't like </span>
  </em>
  <span>that, Piper guessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right, this night just got very interesting." She jotted a few more lines regarding the hearings, Jo and Min's words next for the paper then.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't doubt it," Dez went on, then more softly, "I hope you can be reticent with the sensitive stuff?" She asked casually.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piper looked up, surprised, "Come on, Dez. You can trust me, you know that." She stood up, the woman examining her through those brown pools, "I'm still the same girl, you know." She said, meeting her eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That remains to be seen." She replied, turning to look down at her; seeing the ring then, still open and exposed on her. Not many still remembered the old matrimonial customs; Dez wasn't one of them "Still wearing that, huh?" She asked quietly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's not go there, not tonight." She reached for her small page of notes after replying, folding the thing over, slipping it under her hat as she finally straightened, " I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>a lot</span>
  </em>
  <span> of work, I should go '' she said, reaching for the door before turning one last time to enquire after Ren who had gone missing after the gathering.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dez only shook her head, "No clue." She simply said. Piper nodded slowly, walking out of the room as she tried to find her way out into the night cast shroud over a sleeping Boston. She was off towards the way-out over by the brick stairs when someone approached her from one of the pillars ahead, the man looked up, his hat rising to reveal MacCready standing with a slim grin across his thin face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man motioned towards the door, "Lemme take ya back, roads, not safe past sundown these days, you can hear them every night." he warned mysteriously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piper nodded, wondering; being reminded of those ghoulish beasts the dead synths renamed into, "Fine, lead the way then." She replied with a small smile for the ex-Gunner who was now, what was he? She remembered; Ren being usually the one around whom he could be seen most of the time, from what she could tell. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What are you planning, girl?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She wondered, following the quiet steps off through the dialed door into the wall and towards the nocturnal streets above out the abandoned church.</span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>"So hey," the man asked from before her, not turning as his rifle came up before him, primed and trigger finger on the ready. The man stalked the corners of every street as they passed quietly over the northern roads that would lead them east past the Commons and towards Goodneighbor from there on, "You, um, you saw Ren anywhere?" He asked resignedly, pausing a while before speaking again, head now to his right as he crouched, making Piper stand behind him, waiting for his motion, "She said she'd be out with you tonight." He quietly added on, turning the other way and scanning the darkness before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piper wondered, "Did she now?" She said mostly to herself, not speaking more as the man probed no further; she still knew little of the strange man from the Capital Wastes, he had always been an outsider, a misfit, </span>
  <em>
    <span>just like you and Ren.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, if </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>don't know where she went", he turned around. Piper sighed, touching his back and pushing him forward once he rose, the man apparently wanted to talk right there and then in the dark.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dez obviously sent her on some work," </span>
  <em>
    <span>She thought I wouldn't notice, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Piper shook her head; the old woman was too circumspect for her own good sometimes. Well, at least Tom would be with her, she should be safe if worse came to the worst. Their path was quiet then, the man wordless as he guided her carefully through pathways across and then through where they would be well hidden. He could see his capped head turned up, watching the two roof edges above, and his rifle before him as they crept past the empty, narrow crossing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were down to the last roads that ran laterally, moving slowly forward as he looked on, the man stopped her with an arm suddenly. "Wait here, I'll go on ahead." He whispered quickly, nodding to her once as he left without waiting for her approval, soon disappearing around the corner to the right. The tall buildings casting a dark shadow over the shrouded street below as before her; the darkened mess of her guide moved some paces east, going over to the divider and flashing his torch at her for a split second.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piper moved slowly and at once, trying to keep her head straight as she made it a few steps into the road, then suddenly something erred just behind her. Not looking back, she made her steps come quicker, a slow rustle and slobbering of something liquid like behind her just around the corner, ending once her last step had been found and she looked up in shock, MacCready reaching for her as she jerked up, finding her quietly shaking, turning around a few moments later.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What had that been?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She wondered frightfully, the sweat on her back and face cooling now and leaving her chilled in the nightly air, the sight before her darkened and still. The man reached for her arm and looked the way from where they had come. Eying keenly as he moved slowly and took her through a thin alley that would lead them soon to the first street lamps patrolled by the Goodneighbor outfit past the nearest abandoned blocks through which they came.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Once on safer grounds, Piper asked, the memory of the slobbering behind her back still tormenting her mind, "You saw that?" She asked once a paired patrol had passed them, Piper saw MacCready stare and only shake his head as he walked on before her after having turned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No." he was quiet, now in the incandescent glare she could make out the rounded path that went north up to the gate, then he paused, coming beside her as they walked abreast, "But I felt something." Looking her way, shrugging as he grew quiet then, a frown over his usually calm face that seemed troubled, she didn't pry further, walking quietly along with him through the empty-looking gate that he nudged for them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Shifting inward Piper turned to the paused man who didn't take more than a dozen steps into the quiet town porch, Piper gave him a word of thanks and saw him gesture with his hand and started to leave, "Where will you go?" She asked suddenly before he had taken more than a couple of steps, seeing him move towards the gate again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He turned, surprised, "Oh, just get some air, you know?" He lied, Piper could tell, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he's going after her,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she realized.</span>
  <em>
    <span> Stop him, </span>
  </em>
  <span>her mind reminding her of that strange murmur and rustle to her back, right over the corner as something had approached them, barely missing the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not safe, MacCready." She sighed when she didn't see him budge, "Look, I know when she went, okay? Come with me and I'll tell you." She couldn't think of another way, the man would no doubt slip out the moment he was allowed to and get himself foolishly killed; Piper could at least stop </span>
  <em>
    <span>that, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for Ren.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He considered her words for a moment, looking away and then nodding, "Fine, I'll listen." he finally surrendered, then started moving, "You better start making some damn sense, the whole town is going crazy these past few days. That guy, maybe he's a sign." he said moving pas her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You believe in that shit?" She walked up beside him, pushing open the door inward as the Crow building offered warmth and silence from the rustling winds outside. After acquiring the keys and getting an eyeful from the reception woman, she moved on. The man looked apologetically at her but she only brushed him off, her room coming up after a pair of flights of stairs as she reached the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Opening it revealed the small mess she had left behind, realizing that the bed had been untouched still. She really hadn't slept on anything soft since she had come here, she remembered, seeing MacCready give off a quiet whistle as the man walked in, one hand over his rifle strap as he slowly strode into her room, looking about and then out the window slits as was probably habit, "Hey," she folded her arms before calling out to him, seeing him turn around and take a seat by the table, "Ren's down in the Institute vault." She simply said, watching his expression stay the same, a small nod as he smiled, sitting up and looking away past the window slits again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know." he quietly said, "She told me, not a whole lot but Dez has been feeding her info for a couple of days now." he said, seeing her surprised expression and frowning, "You didn't know?" He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And here you thought </span>
  </em>
  <span>he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was the outsider, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Piper chided herself, shaking her head as she looked up, "So you know the way? How to get in there?" She asked internally, there would have to be a change of plans now, after having considered more of what the women down the church had said; she </span>
  <em>
    <span>had </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be there now, see it for herself. The man wondered for a while, telling her about the ways into the Vault, of course, just the road to it; the abandoned underground station was apparently their true destination, “You sure you're okay doing this?" She asked, wondering how Ren would feel about her crashing into one of her schemes, The man chuckled, getting spry as he got up on two feet livelier than before, turning to her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't worry, I'm not with the Railroad, you know." he said quietly, "Still a gunner to most of them." Piper nodded quietly, following the man who then wordlessly understood and started moving out, the door behind her closing to the hotel room door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Tom</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Walking along with the northern clearing that gave way to the old building down a few paces; the old Mutant haunt now mostly empty and only smelled bad. Tom saw the trail of smoke rising from an oncoming hill east, a blast of some kind? Smelling a hint of nitrate and sulfur in the air, the rotten taste of eggs on his pallet as he held his breath, stepping slowly around the boulders blocking the stairs up to the rooftop. They were back where they had begun in the morning, the whole experience having irritated him well and truly. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He's teleporting all over, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he grimaced, remembering how the young Mr. House had disappeared into thin air in a flash of light in that dark halo room, leaving him behind with the dead Courser synth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tom turned around, seeing Arcade who nodded when he pointed over by the low main building rooftop, the CIT ruins were mostly tall buildings with the main hall that connected most of them, a single-storied hall atop which stood the lone shaded figure they had been after all morning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"House," Tom called out, making the young man turn, he was narrow-faced, with an angular nose and deep-set knowing eyes over hair cut short.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tom." he replied with a recognized pause, then smiling, "So good of you to come," he replied, walking towards the Courier now about six feet apart as both men looked to be of equal age, eyeing each other, the suited man had his hands clasped back, smiling mysteriously at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is this?" He asked, obviously meaning his face, Tom had not expected a </span>
  <em>
    <span>young </span>
  </em>
  <span>House, that had been the real surprise for him back in the hole down below them. The man looked surprised at first, quickly understanding as he brought out his palms before him, smiling as he looked up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shaun had other ideas I suppose, I assure you I have no intentions to be aesthetically pleasing, I remember all the troubles and distractions it can bring." He said with a smile, seeing the stone-faced man not show a hint of mirth at their meeting.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know why I'm here, House," Tom spoke quietly, a death rattle that rarely left his lips, a slow rise from beside him as his metallic arm rose Mysha's barrel to his old master’s head, a clear shot here and now and he could finally end it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes, straight to the point then," House said, getting harder, sighing as he turned around, "Look around you Tom, look what the Brotherhood instigated here, Vegas would have been no different." He rationalized but Tom had decided years ago not to listen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You don't know that"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"As it so happens, Tom, I actually do," he said turning back with a sad smile, "They didn't suffer Tom, th-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop," he whispered, face still impassive but voice the harbinger of death and fury itself, cocking the revolver and finger warming the narrow trigger in the cool morning. Mr. House stopped speaking, nodding as he looked down, a face saddened over how the interaction had gone, turning around as he looked east, the still blimp dark before the rising sun from the sea horizon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I suppose she didn't make it," he said quietly, looking down to his hands as he remembered out loud, "I had her spared, you know. Afterwards when she went back to her family," he trailed off, turning around, "Her exile was my design, Tom."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Courier frowned a bit, remembering how a distraught Victoria had come to find him into the Strip, she had had no one then. Tom walked a few steps forward, closing ground to the man who had nowhere to run now, the edge ending a few inches off his shoes. The man stood straight, meeting the barrel he stared down without much fear. That was what irked Tom the most, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he isn't scared, what is he planning?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"So you want to kill me." Mr. House spoke, "I can understand that but I think you'll find that process rather difficult." He smiled, turning down to the circular dais that stood at the center of the main porch that had once been a garden below them, "You are wasting your energy, my friend" he went on, “and this" he said turning and to gaze at his raised arm, "is but one copy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll blow up the entire fucking place then, how about that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The suited man looked on wordless, examining deep blues as Tom met the dark, narrow pools back. Then, after some moments of tense nothingness, the synth spoke, "Yes. I suppose you would, wouldn't you?" He asked, a low smile rising before the Courier, revealing a bit of the menace he had sworn to destroy, </span>
  <em>
    <span>there you are.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He shot, but nothing came. His finger gripping the trigger hard, only, his hand felt frozen to the tips, arm soon losing volition as it stood straight out before him, the gun still pointed at the man who was smiling as he spoke, "You thought I wouldn't take precautions, Tom?" he asked quietly, his whole body shaking as his metallic hand had a new master then, one that he had provoked the suited man into action.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A moment passed in silence, and then Tom moved. His right hand coming up incredibly fast as one of those silvery blades protruded out as his sleeve and moved towards the still standing man. But his own metallic hand was faster, soon twisting around and shooting himself in the gut, he fell at once, taken by the kick-back of the heavy-chambered revolver, blood slowly pooling around him as he tried to rise from where he fell, the knife was off his hands then, his other arm still again, feeling like an alien parasite he had no control over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His right hand reached for his other sleeve then, finding his second blade attached to the metallic arm that was no longer his; hooked the trigger loop into the silver steel and twisted his metallic hand soon free of the gun. So, it attacked him; a punch to his face came so fast he had not even been ready, feeling a chip of broken tooth shoot back of his throat as he fell back down. The metallic arm unrelentingly grabbed his throat, squeezing it tight and familiarly like that man from the alley before everything had gone to hell.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Through his slowly deteriorating sight, he saw House walk languidly around him, coming up to one side as he looked down on him, the hand then off his neck, letting him breathe as he gasped for air. The hand-raising him up by the collars like a puppet master with his strings, "I'm sorry Tom, but this is how it was supposed to end, where we would finally meet", he lowered his voice, "only Shaun is missing," he said, Tom hearing his voices over the ringing daze that the punch, the gun wound and his struggle for air left behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You died in that cage, son." he said, crouching down, "now your deliberate existence can end. Rest Thomas," he said, reaching for the pip-boy that lit up on above him, the metallic arm showing House the screen as he reached for dial when-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Stop" Tom heard Arcade; his own body was shuddering then, what was happening? He tried to focus but found his mind lost of energy and his focus fleeting, the world dizzy around him. Slowly, in the back of his mind, he understood. </span>
  <em>
    <span>The gland receptor, the sneaky bastard was</span>
  </em>
  <span> playing with his metabolism, he realized, cutting him off blood sugar and disabling him to the ground in a drool at an instant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>House rose from him, his arm coming down like a rock beside him, no sense in that alien thing still, "Arcade. So good of you to come, I see Tom here took my advice" he said hastily, a pause before he frowned back at the man, Tom slowly rose on one arm to turn towards the pair; seeing the synth unsure all of a sudden as a plasma pistol was pulled on him. Tom's working hand stopping the fast leaking blood out his wound as he looked on, "I see," House said as he turned back, "Suppose sparing the girl </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a mistake, after all." he caught a glance at Tom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Turning back to the doctor, having decided his next steps, he spoke, "Farewell, for now, gentlemen. It seems there has been a development" he smiled, "when we meet again, I hope we won't have to kill each other, at least not on sight." Turning to Tom before finally bringing his hand up, </span>
  <em>
    <span>he beat you without raising an arm</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Tom bitterly wondered, the blood loss finally catching up to him, finding his remaining blood to soon replenish itself of glucose as the figure looked keenly at him for a second, then flicked his fingers and disappearing in a familiar flash at once.</span>
</p><p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Cait</b>
  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The road down the incline revealed a scenery of morning rays striking off the still pond at the center of an empty Boston Commons, a quiet clearing only a few blocks away from where death had passed her by so closely just two days ago. Feeling a chill down her spine she straightened herself, realizing Curie to be reaching for her arm. Cait turned and realized she was standing staring while the dozen or so agents from down under were carefully making their way into the subterranean stairwell that would lead them down to the depths where they were headed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dez was at its head, she saw, nodding to Curie next as Cait made and she made their way past a few Gauss rifle carrying fellows that eyed the two girls without a word. She frowned at them, making their surprised eyes turn away as they reached the hazel-eyed woman who was calling the shots.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Inside the tunnels where it got deathly cold she pulled her arms around herself, trying to fuel herself from the anger that woman had caused her, </span>
  <em>
    <span>We can’t take them, not yet,</span>
  </em>
  <span> she remembered the Matriarch saying, </span>
  <em>
    <span>We could be putting them in more risk, their bodies are stable for now, so we take it slow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Slow”, she whispered, in the echoing tunnel she saw a bright-eyed Curie turn towards her, a questing gaze that she just answered only with a shake of her head, going on more softly and inquiring about how Dr. Amari was back at the camps. Cait saw her face visibly sadden at her words, trying to be strong and somewhat failed in the process. It didn’t feel right, Cait had to admit, freezing a person’s mind outside themselves, but what choice did they have?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Have faith in him, ” She tried to reassure her but she had none of the pizazz of the bald synth who she was referring to. Orion, someone who in a matter of months had become a key player in the happenings around the Commonwealth and her fate, Cait remembering the last time when someone like that had come into the fold, more than a year ago now.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Where are you, Nate?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She asked inwardly, growing remorse clouding her thoughts, a bit of the cold exiting her when she reminded herself of the woman who was no doubt attached to him at this very moment, remembering Piper and her last, harsh words one more time, somehow unable to forget it no matter how close the chems brought her to edge.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold.” A voice called out, loud and from the woman who led the pack in front, Cait recognized. Walking aside and finding the woman standing before the large geared door standing with her back to it. It was then Cait saw what they all were looking at, working familiarly by a console beside the three-pronged device with dark arms that slanted and grew sharp along with a circular dias where soon one after the other, each of the agents disappeared into quickly as if it was all practiced.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cait turned to Curie, seeing the girl as turned back with a sheepish smile as she pulled her aside, speaking quick words to her, “Don’t worry, these are Dez’s most trusted, they have always known.” she said at the end, softly ending her words as those dark eyes were affixed to the device in the dark down a few steps with a strange expression. A flash of light for each person who vanished into thin air, and soon, it was their turn as the tunnel had suddenly grown very empty in minutes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Moving on ahead she saw Dez by the counter still, it seemed the woman on the front would come in last. Curie nodded over to the woman and smiled back at Cait a bit, a second later her visage gone from before her in the darkened tunnel.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cait was alone then, with the woman who had grilled Tom along with the strange blue-haired woman for hours on end yesterday, seeing her unarmed in her brown leathers and standing at ease with the relative stranger. </span>
  <em>
    <span>She doesn’t expect danger, none down there,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Cait realized, seeing her arm motion towards the gray circle where she slowly stepped up to.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Before going down to the device Dez spoke up once, “I’d be careful if I were you, Caitlyn.” She said, not looking up. Had she ever even talked to the woman? Cait really couldn’t say she had,  “the Lion” she began again, “Tom, has a history of dead lovers,” she ended strangely, not meeting her questioning eyes, “some men are cursed, you know.” she ended. Cait frowned, then looking on defiantly as Dez smiled up finally after some time, though not unkindly, a second of white flash, and she was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The walls here were pristine, amazing Cait’s eyes because of how clean and spotless everything seemed. Was this metal? She wondered, touching the smooth surface along the hallway as she walked alongside Curie, feeling the even smoothness and cool of material brushing past her fingertips, not a hint of rust or any imperfection along the long white halls that they walked through quietly as a pair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Soon a curved glass door appeared before them, the hallway getting cramped as she saw an agent wait by for the last of the ones to arrive. Soon Dez joined them, the four of them entering the circle as the curved glass sealed them in, then, the floor moved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Curie turned to her with a smile when she felt Cait’s hand on her own, gripping tight in a second of alarm, she smiled back, a bit embarrassed as her preceding thoughts were soon washed away by the vista the Institute had to offer before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She’s a looker, ain’t she?” Dez said softly with a lilt, lighting a cigarette through the descent, watching the layers pass down them as she familiarly looked over to one side, waiting eagerly for the door to open once they were steadily brought down to the floor. Cait was surprised to see no one there, other than the man who was with them there would be about ten more who had passed through from the tunnel back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Curie, come.” Dez spoke once having stepped out the glass elevator, “I’m sure you’d like to meet Ren, as it so happens I would too.” She took a drag, turning to Cait, “Orion can wait for now, but there is something I wish to know first.” The woman ended, dropping the burnt-out stick down to the floor and stepping on it. Cait turned to her friend; seeing her companion bob her head made Cait wonder what spell she had over the younger, eager woman. Staring wordless for a second before seeing the three of them step along one of the four pathways that led into the many corridors beyond the large empty hall of the Institute and its elevator at the center.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She remembered that name, those intense eyes were hard to forget; the Captain of the Diamond City Guard was </span>
  <em>
    <span>here?</span>
  </em>
  <span> She shook her head, wondering what she had gotten herself caught into just then, following the three up along the flight of stairs. They were walking through low steps that ran through the floors once past the empty halls that Cait saw were a collection of spotless tables and counters set further back. Lights dimmed low here, the place lighting up slowly as they passed by, Cait was amazed to see it dim back once they had fully passed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The last flight of stairs once conquered; the woman on the front led them to a door among the many similar that ran along the hallway. She really didn’t catch what the woman did but the door slid open at once, her eyes soon finding the Captain of the guard resting in bed, looking back expectantly at the four of them as Cait saw the woman who was sitting beside her once they all moved in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Piper was sat arms folded, soon finishing up whatever she had been doing with his hands as she got up, seeing Dez and nodding to her with a light smile, Dez did not seem amused from where she stood by the wall then, becoming someone invisible as was common. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Piper,” Dez began, then without an expression turning to the man who was on the other side of her, “I suppose this was your idea?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She didn’t know the man, lanky with a cap over his head and a heavy winter coat down to his ankles, one wrapped hand over his rifle strap,  as he nodded, making the Matriarch sigh and then mutter to herself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” She turned then straight to her, shocking Cait somewhat, the woman gave her a practiced smile, “I’m sure you’d want to meet him.” She said, turning to Curie beside her and whispering quick words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cait looked on, feeling the cool rage from Piper radiating without fail, ignoring the damn woman she found herself being coaxed aside, trying to resist as Cuire brought her to the door, telling her in whispers about Tom and Orion who were with the rest of the agents downstairs apparently.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing the four pairs of eyes inside the room staring back at her she finally decided and turned back to her friend, saying no more as she wordlessly agreed. They no doubt didn’t want </span>
  <em>
    <span>her</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting in on their plans, well, who cared? She just hoped they wouldn’t get Tom too mixed up with all this as well, they had already gotten to Nate, she grimly remembered.</span>
</p>
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